Righting a Wrong
by Shadpup
Summary: Jack goes missing while on a field trip to the zoo and the team races to find him.
1. Chapter 1

_Here is my first Criminal Minds story. I am striving to keep in line with the characters and the show. I am not a shipper so my stories will focus only on the team as coworkers and as a family. This takes place at the beginning of season 7 and I am throwing out the first episode and replacing it with mine. Enjoy and let me know what you think. Of course, none of the characters belong to me. _

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><p>"Daddy! It's time to get up," Jack Hotchner announced happily, bounding up onto his father's bed.<p>

Sighing Aaron Hotchner rolled over onto his back. He put his arms behind his head to gaze fondly at his son who was grinning from ear to ear. "What's your hurry today, buddy? Usually your aren't this eager to go to camp."

"Field trip," Jack answered, bouncing up and down in eager anticipation.

"Aah," Hotch said letting his eyes go wide in surprise. "I had forgotten," he teased.

Jack scrunched up his nose and said very seriously. "You should have wrote it down."

Hotch laughed and sat up to ruffle his son's hair. "Are you implying that I'm old?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow.

Jack giggled. "I don't know what 'imply' means but you are sorta old. But not like Uncle Dave, he's really old!"

"Thanks, buddy, I think. Now go and get dressed while your old man drags himself out of bed." He said, reaching over to give his son a fond swat on the back.

"Kay." Jack grinned while he nimbly dodged his father's hand and bound out of the bedroom as quickly as he had entered.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Hotch called after his departing son.

"Pancakes," echoed down the hall.

Hotch smiled to himself as threw back the covers. "Pancakes it is."

"You're in early," David Rossi observed from his office doorway, cup of coffee cradled between his hands, as Hotch walked by.

"Had to drop off Jack early at summer camp." He replied as he stopped beside Rossi. "Today is the big field trip." He smiled, remembering how excited Jack was that he practically flew out of the car. He had to chase his son down to give him his lunch, spending money, and a goodbye hug.

"Where to?" Dave asked as he took a sip of his coffee.

"The National Zoo. He really wants to see the red panda cubs."

"Ah," Dave smiled. "Sounds like fun for the kids but I have the feeling the adults may feel differently after a couple of hours."

Hotch chuckled. " I couldn't agree more. I would rather deal with a homicidal maniac wielding a machete than thirty six-year olds for hours on end."

"Here, here," Rossi said saluting with his cup.

Hotch's smile faded as he looked over the bullpen. "Jack asked me if Emily liked red pandas and if she did would she go see them with him when she got back."

"Ouch," Dave said in sympathy. Emily's death was still a bitter pill to swallow for the team but it was different for Jack and Henry. Both were told that Emily was off on a special assignment. Henry was too little to understand death and Jack was still dealing with the death of his own mother several years ago. "What did you say?"

Hotch shrugged. "What could I say? I told him I didn't know and that we would have to wait and ask her when she finished her current assignment."

"How did he take that?"

"In typical Jack fashion. He said okay and that he was going to buy Emily a stuffed red panda at the zoo so I could send it to her."

Dave frowned. "Send it to her?"

Hotch sighed and ran one hand over his head, turning the perfectly combed hair into a spiky, disorderly mess. He knew he would have to tidy it up when he got to his office but right this moment he didn't care if his hair looked like an annoyed hedgehog.

"Since Emily died, Jack has been drawing pictures for her. He said he didn't want Emily to get homesick. He doesn't do it as much as he did in the first months but she is still in his thoughts. You remember on Mother's Day when he made cards for JJ and Penelope? Dave nodded. "He made one for Emily too."

Dave took a sip of his coffee. "What do you do with the card?"

"I put in the folder with the pictures which I keep in my file cabinet here under 'E'. I didn't have the heart to throw them out. Plus there are some from Henry in there."

Dave gave Hotch a sad smile. "Emily always had a way with kids. She drew them to her just like a bee to honey."

Hotch smiled back. "I think my son had…has a crush on her."

Both men turned their gaze back to the bullpen and to Emily's empty desk. It was a stark reminder of the hole Emily's death had put in the team's soul. The camaraderie and bantering was missing from the room. Instead, a cloud of gloom and grief that hung over everyone and everything filled the room.

It still seemed like yesterday when Hotch watched a tearful Penelope clean out Emily's desk. When Reid and Morgan had offered to help, she had glared at them with tear filled eyes. Both agents quietly backed away and left her to her grief. Penelope had packed each item away slowly and carefully, trying to keep a hold of her friend a little longer. Finally when there was nothing left, she had closed the lid with a quiet sob, picked up the box, and took it back to her office where it still resides to this day. Hotch knew that Penelope keeps Emily nameplate next to her main computer screen.

No one went near Emily's desk. When JJ had returned to the unit she chose to use Morgan's old desk. She had said that the mere thought of sitting in Emily's chair made her sick to her stomach. So it sits unoccupied while each member of the team nurtures a tiny hope that one day they would walk into the bullpen and find Emily sitting there, brown eyes dancing in merriment, smiling broadly. Only then would everything be back to normal.

"Remember when Garcia with ballistic on Anderson when he had leaned against Emily's desk? Rossi asked.

"Do I," Hotch chuckled. "I think Anderson is still hiding from her in the copy room."

Dave raised his cup to his lips, took a sip, and grimaced. The coffee had grown cold while they were talking. Sighing he knew he had to make a second trip to the break room for a fresh cup.

"Is Strauss still after you to fill Emily's spot?" He asked.

"She is but I can put her off for a bit longer. Personally I think it is too early. The wound is still too raw. I'm afraid if I brought in someone new, he or she would constantly be compared to Emily which would be unfair to both."

"I quite agree. I think the team is working well the way it is."

"Try telling that to Strauss," Hotch replied arcing an eyebrow at Dave.

"If you want me to run interference for you, I'll be glad too. I could use a good verbal joust right now," Dave said grinning.

"Make sure you are well protected down below."

Jack walked slowly past the shelves full of stuffed animals in the zoo's gift shop. He made sure that he kept his hands in pockets as his mother had taught him. Look but don't touch was what she had always said when they were out shopping. He just hoped deep down in his heart that there was a red panda here. There just had to be one but so far he was not having much luck. Then he saw it. Its red mask was peeking down at him from the top shelf.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" the silver hair zoo volunteer asked.

Jack nodded eagerly, pointing.

She followed the line of his finger and smiled. "The red panda? She asked, touching the stuffed animal.

Yes, Ma'am," Jack answered finding his voice and manners.

"Here you go," she said, taking it off the shelf and handing it to him. She was pleased by the delighted look that lit up his face. This was why she loved working here.

Jack gazed at the medium sized panda. It was perfect. Its face was expressive, the colors bright, and when you hugged it, it was soft and squishy. He just knew that Emily would love it.

He thrust his hand back into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled ten-dollar bill and a handful of change. He showed it to the volunteer and asked, "Is this enough?"

She looked at the money in his hand then at the tag: fifteen dollars. She could tell that he really wanted it and how it would tear at her heart to see his eager face fall into disappointment.

"Yes, it is," she answered and led him over to the cash wrap. She took the ten-dollar bill and rang up the sale as Jack bounced up and down in excitement. Discreetly she pulled a ten out of her own pocket and put it in the drawer to make up the difference.

Pulling out a bag from under the counter, she said, "We'll just put him in a bag to keep his clean. It is a 'he'?" Jack thought for a moment. He nodded yes. "Good. I'll put his head up so he can see where he is going." She handed him the bag. "There you go. Now keep a tight hold on him, you don't want to lose him would you?"

"No, Ma'am," Jack beamed taking a hold of the bag carefully. "Thank you," he said before turning and dashing off to join his classmates.

Another volunteer came over to stand next to the silver haired woman. "You know, Velma, you're going to go broke doing that all the time."

Velma smiled at her coworker. "I'll do it again just to see a child face light up with delight."

"Did everyone get what they wanted?" Mrs. Moore asked her small charges as Jack hurried over to join the group. A chorus of 'yeses' echoed through the gift shop. "Good," she said and made a quick head count: ten. Everyone was present and accounted for.

"Okay, everyone. We are going to head over to the covered pavilion for lunch. Then afterwards we are off to see the elephants. Everyone cool with that?" Ten smiles beamed up at her. "Excellent," she said and open the door. "Follow me."

The ten kids spilled out the door into the bright and warm afternoon. They clumped together like ducklings following the teacher down the path. Jack walking at the back of the pack, tripped over his shoelace that had come untied. Stopping, he put the bag down and sat on the ground to retie his shoe. With the tip of tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, Jack carefully formed the bow like the way his father had shown him, looped the lace around it and pulled it tightly into the shape of two bunny ears. Satisfied with his handiwork, he started to get up when a hand appeared in his line of sight to pick up his shopping bag. Suddenly uncomfortable, Jack jumped to his feet. Nervously he looked up at the man with short-cropped gray hair smiling faintly down at him.

"Hello, Jack," he said in a soft Irish accent.

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><p><em>Well? What did you think? Hit that little ole review button and let me know good or bad and everything in between.<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_Well folks, looks like alot of people enjoyed the first chapter so here is the next. Oh, before I forget I want to warn you that I am a once a week poster. That way I can stay several chapters ahead which means a lot less pressure. Seems I posted the first on a Tues. night so Tues. it is. Now sit back and enjoy and don't forget to tell me what you think. _

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><p>Knock. Knock.<p>

"Come in," Hotch said, never looking up from the report he was perusing.

JJ entered the office, moving over to his desk to set down on it a stack of files. She patted the top one in satisfaction. "I'm all finished with my pile of files. All you have to do is sign them."

Hotch set his report to one side. "That was fast," he commented as he flipped open the top file, glancing up at the blonde woman.

JJ shrugged modestly as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I had some motivation. I was hoping I could leave early to spend some quality time with Will and Henry."

Hotch stopped reading the file and folded his hands on top of it. "I don't have any problems with you leaving early. Take advantage of this downtime. We may not be this lucky next week."

"Thanks, Hotch," JJ said, smiling in relief.

"How are things on the home front?"

She sank down into the visitor's chair with a sigh. "It's been rough. Will and Henry are still adjusting to the long hours and unpredictable schedule but it's getting better."

"What about you?" Hotch asked, noting the tired look on the young woman's face.

"I'm fine," she answered with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Hotch arched an eyebrow. "That sounded like a 'Emily' answer." He instantly regretted his words when JJ's eyes filled with sadness. "I'm sorry, JJ, I shouldn't have said that."

She smiled wanly. "It's okay, Hotch. You're right. Emily used it to dodge uncomfortable questions and so did I. You want the truth?"

He nodded.

"I'm so stressed. I don't know how much longer I can continue with this deception. I hate having to constantly lie to my co-workers and family about Emily. I know, I know," she said holding up her hand to forestall Hotch when she saw him starting to speak. "We did this to save Emily's life but to quote her second favorite saying 'this sucks'."

The corner of his mouth curled up into a small smile. "It does suck."

JJ blinked at her boss in surprise. Never in the six years she had worked with him, he had ever used that word. He had used other colorful words but never that one. This was a first for her and she couldn't stop herself from letting out a small chuckle.

"We'll get through this, JJ," he said seriously. "We will capture Doyle and then we will bring Emily home."

JJ jumped to her feet in frustration to pace before his desk, her arms wrapped tightly around her body. "When, Hotch, when? It's been five months and no Doyle. It's like he fell off the face of the earth."

"Morgan will find him," he said calmly even though he didn't feel calm. He was just as frustrated as she was but he couldn't show it. Outwardly he had to be the glue the held the team together. "It just going to take some time. He is working hard at it."

"How much time?" she asked, stopping behind the chair and grabbing its' back with both hands. "I'm really worried about her. You haven't seen her since that horrible night. I have. When I met her in Paris, I was shocked by her appearance." JJ's eyes grew distant. "She had dark circles under her eyes, she was paler than normal, and she hadn't started to put on any of the weight she had lost during her hospitalization."

"I didn't know," Hotch said softly.

"Of course you didn't," JJ said with a rueful laugh. "I didn't want to dump that on you while you were dealing with the team's grief so I kept it to myself."

"But now you have. Feel better?"

JJ rubbed the bridge of her nose and sat down again. "A bit." She leaned forward to rest her hand on the desk. "You know what the worst thing was?"

Hotch shook his head.

"Emily wouldn't look me in the eyes. She just stared at the envelope I had given her. She has retreated behind those damn walls of hers and I think that they are even thicker than before. I'm afraid that none of us may be able to get through to her when we do get her home. We may have lost her for good."

"And we may not have," Hotch countered. "It doesn't do you any good playing the 'what if' game. We'll deal with Emily's physical and emotional trauma one-step at a time. The team will be here for her."

JJ was about to answer when Hotch's desk phone rang. She gestured for him to answer it, indicating she could wait to the finish the conversation.

"Aaron Hotchner," he said into the receiver.

His eyebrows sank into a deep frown as he listened, knuckles turning white as he gripped the phone tighter.

"When?" he barked, causing JJ to sit up straight and stare at him in concern.

"Did they close it down?" A pause. "Good. Have they contacted the police?" Another pause. "I'm leaving now. Don't do anything until I get there," he ordered and slammed the phone into its cradle, cutting off the person on the other end.

JJ shot to her feet as Hotch shot passed her. "Hotch what's wrong?"

He stopped in the doorway, hands tight fists at his side. "Jack's missing," he said in a flat voice.

"Oh, god," JJ cried, her hands going to cover her mouth in shock. "Go. I'll get the team and meet you there."

Hotch nodded in appreciation and rushed to the elevator, pushing and pushing the down button in a futile attempt to get it there quicker. He knew it wouldn't work but it kept him from slamming his fist into the door.

Finally the doors slid open and he stepped in. Turning he glared hard at an agent who was trying to enter the car with him. The agent gulped, stepping back saying feebly, "I'll catch the next one."

When the doors closed and the elevator started its' descent, Hotch let the mask of stone crumble. He was no longer the unemotional F.B.I. agent but a scared father.

"Jack," he whispered, closing his eyes to prevent the tears welling up from falling. "Oh, god, Jack," he repeated, his voice now shaking.

Hotch shook his head thinking that this couldn't be real, this couldn't be happening. First Haley died and now his son is missing. He didn't know what he would do if he lost Jack. He had promised Haley that he would keep Jack safe but it seems that he has failed just like he had failed in preventing Foyet from killing her.

The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival at the lobby. Hotch scrubbed his face with both hands to wipe away any errant tears and to compose himself. Taking a deep breath, he slid back into his persona of impassive agent and stormed out, determined that he will find his son and keep his promise to his dead wife. He also vowed that if Jack wasn't simply lost but taken, he would tear the kidnapper apart with his own bare hands.

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><p>Jack's head felt funny. It didn't feel like the time he had tripped and hit his head on the coffee table. This felt more like someone had packed his head full of cotton balls. Slowly he sat up, blinking in confusion as he took in his surroundings. A jolt of fear shot through him when he realized he was no longer at the zoo. Instead, he found himself sitting on a bare mattress that was shoved up against one wall in a small empty room, dimly lit by a small window way over his head.<p>

Pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, Jack pondered how he had gotten here. He distinctly remembered the man with the blue eyes and gray hair saying his name. That had made him pause, which had allowed the man to kneel down before him. The man had then whipped out a handkerchief and said something about having dirt on his face. As the cloth was pressed against his nose, he had gotten a whiff of a sweet smell and then his little world went black.

Getting uneasier by the minute, Jack climbed to his feet and went in search for the door, intending to tell the first person he saw that he was lost and wanted to go home. They would then call his Daddy and all would be all right. He knew that his Daddy would be worried and he would end up having a long talk about wandering away from his teacher but that sounded much more appealing than this dirty room he was currently standing in.

Finally spotting the door on the far wall, Jack hurried over, grabbed the knob with both hands and tugged. Nothing happened. He tried pushing but the door refused to open.

It's lock his mind screamed at him, sending a chill down his spine. Desperation set in, as he pulled harder on the knob.

"Let me out!" he cried over and over, tears now streaming down his cheeks.

Giving up on the knob, he started banging his hands against the door. "I wanna go home. Please open up. I wanna go home!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Jack kept up the noise for as long as he could until exhaustion started creeping up on him. "I want my Daddy," he sobbed before giving the door one last half-hearted slap. "I want my Daddy," his voice cracking as he leaned his head against the cold, unforgiving door. "Please!"

Sniffling and hiccupping from crying so hard, Jack despondently turned away from the door and slowly made his way back to the mattress. Flopping down in a heap, he wiped at his tear-streaked face. It was then he spotted the shopping back from the zoo. Reaching over, he grabbed it and pulled out the stuffed red panda. Hugging it close, Jack curled up in a tight ball, whispering into its fur "I want my Daddy," before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello folks. It is that time of the week again. Posting time. It is a tad shorter but hopefully as enjoyable as the rest. Sit back, put your feet up and enjoy. Again please let me know what you think good or bad. Hard to fix problems if no one tells me or to keep going if I am on the right track. :)_

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><p>Hotch brought the SUV to a screeching halt halfway on the sidewalk in front of the main entrance of the zoo. Jumping out, he rushed through the entrance flashing his badge in the face of the uniformed officer standing guard, while his eyes searched for the head of the zoo. Behind him the SUV carrying the rest of the team pulled up behind the abandoned vehicle and they quickly followed their unit chief inside.<p>

The zoo director walked up to Hotch, his hand outstretched. "Agent Hotchner? I'm…." he began.

"What are you doing to find my son?" he demanded, cutting off the man.

"Don't worry, Agent Hotcher," the director said brightly. "We have everything under control. This is not an uncommon situation. You would be amazed at the number of children that get lost here every year."

Hotch glared at the man. "I don't need reassurance. I want to know exactly what you are doing to find my son."

The director took one look at Hotch's face and quickly transferred his attention to the clipboard in his hand. "The moment we were notified of your son's disappearance, the zoo was locked down. No one has been allowed to enter or exit. At the same time the police were called in. Once we have a photo of Jack, we will begin to let the zoo patrons leave through the main entrance, comparing each child with the photo and questioning each adult."

"I'll get Garcia to fax one over," JJ said who had been standing quietly to one side.

"Tell her to use the photo from my desk. It's the most current one."

"Will do." Stepping back she pulled out her phone and punched in Garcia's number.

"Once the zoo is empty, we will conduct a section by section search starting from Jack's last location and fanning outward. Don't wo…," the director started to say but quickly changed his mind, not wanting to irritate the man any further. "We'll find him, Agent Hotchner. We know every nook and cranny a child can hide in."

Hotch nodded. He fought down the urge to start running around shouting his son's name, knowing it would do no good. He had to leave it in the hands of the zoo director and his staff. They trained for this and knew the terrain like the back of their hands. He didn't.

"Photo is on its way," JJ spoke up at his elbow.

"Good," he said, stepping back into Unit Chief mode. "Reid, go to the zoo office and get the copies. Morgan and Rossi, go help the officers at the gate. I'm sure Garcia has already emailed Jack's photo to your phones. Lets start getting the people out of here." He turned back to the director as the team hurried off. "Does that work for you?"

"Perfect. We have a command post set up right outside the gift shop." The director pointed to his left where his staff was setting up a corkboard with a detailed map of the zoo pinned to it.

Hotch stood there watching the activity swarming around him and JJ. With each passing second he could feel the frustration boiling up inside him and if he didn't soon find a way to release it, he would burst. His release came in the form of Mrs. Moore who was hurrying across the pavement toward him.

"Mr. Hotchner," she said in dismay as she skidded to a stop. "I don't know what happened. One moment he was there and the next he was gone. I only had my back turned for a minute when Sally asked me a question."

JJ felt sorry for the woman. She could see that Jack's disappearance had shaken her to her core.

Hotch, on the other hand, did not. He rounded on the poor woman. "It only takes seven seconds for a child to vanish, Mrs. Moore. Obviously you weren't doing your job. If you were paying attention to your charges, my son wouldn't be out there somewhere lost."

Mrs. Moore jerked by in shock, her face blanching while fresh tears pooled in her eyes.

"Hotch," JJ said softly, placing a calming hand on his arm.

He started to open his mouth to unleash another tirade when JJ squeezed his arm. Tearing his gaze away from the distraught woman, he saw that she was shaking her head, mouthing the word 'don't'. Taking a steadying breath, he turned and stalked away, heading for the command post.

JJ watched him go before turning back to the teacher. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. Please don't take it seriously. He is just upset."

Mrs. Moore nodded, shredding a tissue in her hands. "I don't. I can see where his is coming from. I would do the same thing. You will find him?" she asked JJ. "I couldn't bear it if something happened to him. Jack is such a sweet boy. He told me he was going to buy a red panda for his friend Emily."

"For Emily?" she echoed, her breath catching at the mention of her friend. "Did he?" Mrs. Moore nodded.

"That was nice of him," she said giving the woman a gentle smile. "We'll find him." JJ gave Mrs. Moore a comforting pat on the arm before hurrying after Hotch.

"She didn't deserve that," she admonished when she had caught up with him. "Mrs. Moore is just as upset as you are."

Hotch stopped, staring at her. "If she had done her job, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"I think she was," JJ shot back in defense of the distraught teacher. "Hotch, you have to remember that kids are very good at giving their parents the slip, intentionally or unintentionally. Every child gets lost at one time or another. This field trip happens to be Jack's. Henry hasn't done it yet, thank god, but one day he will and I will work myself into a proper panic."

"But…"

JJ pressed on. "You took out your frustration on her simply because she was a convenient target. You need to apologize to her."

Hotch sighed. "I know. I have a few things to take care of first but I will go back and talk with her. Pleasantly," he said when JJ started to protest over his choice of words. "Satisfied?"

"Immensely." She smiled as they resumed walking. "What's next?"

"We need to have the police issue an Amber Alert just on the off chance that Jack may have gotten off the zoo grounds."

JJ nodded. "Good idea. We might even get some calls from people who had left before the zoo was locked down."

"Exactly. Call Garcia and get her on the security tapes."

"She already is. I asked her when I called about Jack's picture." JJ informed him.

Hotch gave her a small smile. "JJ? Thank you."

"For what?"

"For watching my back and keeping me sane."


	4. Chapter 4

_Here we go. The next chapter ya'll been waiting for. Read, enjoy and use that little old review button. So few reviews are making me feel a tad unloved. Make me happier. :)_

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><p>It was a beautiful evening. The nighttime sky was clear of clouds, allowing an unimpeded view of the stars twinkling in their full glory. The summer moon bathe the waters of the river Seine with its gentle light as it wound its way through the City of Light. Sounds were muted, occasionally broken by the horns of the barges that chugged their ways slowly up and down the river. It was a perfect night for lovers to take a romantic stroll before sharing a kiss under a moonlit tree.<p>

All of this was lost on the woman walking down the boulevard with an air of casualness about her, canvas tote bag slung over the left shoulder, right hand buried deep in the pocket of the light weight coat. Though she gave off the appearance of someone without a care in the world. Inside, she was tense and alert, dark brown eyes constantly scanning the shadows, alleyways, and nooks for hidden dangers. She studied the faces and body language of the people she passed, nodding or smiling only when they did it first. If anything seemed off, she would unobtrusively move to one side, giving them a wide berth. She never looked behind her but listened closely for any sounds: footsteps, coughs, or ragged breathing that could mean she was being followed.

Emily breathed a sigh of relief when her apartment came into view. She stepped into the shadows of the building across from it, eyes studying the area around the entrance for any figures lurking in the darkness. Spotting none, she gripped the gun hidden in her pocket tighter, hurried across the street, and unlocking the door to slide inside the dingy vestibule.

Once in, she pulled out the gun and held it close to her leg for ease of use and to hide it from sight in case she ran into any of her neighbors on the way up. She knew they already called her the 'odd woman in 4A' but she didn't want to become the 'gun toting crazy woman in 4A'. That would draw to much attention, which she definitely did not want. She would then be forced to move and she didn't have the energy to do so. Hell, she barely had the energy to get through each long, empty day.

Slowly Emily made her way up the stairs, setting each foot down cautiously on the worn treads to avoid making any noise. It had taken her over two weeks to memorize all the creaks, squeaks, and groans of each individual step. Now she was able to float up the stairs like a ghost to surprise any of Doyle's henchmen who might be lurking on any of the three landings. Luckily Emily didn't encounter anyone and was soon standing in front of her apartment door on the fourth floor.

She slipped the canvas tote off her shoulder, wincing as the motion tugged on the still healing stab wound. Five months later and it still hurt whenever she moved in certain ways. Emily welcomed the pain because it proved she was still alive and dreaded the day when she no longer felt it for it would mean she was truly dead inside. Dead in the grave back in Virginia and dead in the soul here in Paris. One hell of a non-life she was leading.

Setting the bag down on the floor, she pulled out her keys to open the multiple locks on the door. After taking a quick peek over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, she raised the Glock up to shoulder height, grabbed the knob with her left hand, flung open the door, and burst into her narrow hallway. Now, with both hands wrapped comfortably around the gun, she quickly cleared her crappy two room apartment or as she often called it 'her own personal corner of hell'. It took a minute to peer into the tiny closet, the cramp bathroom, the small bedroom, and the kitchen/living room. Satisfied that the apartment was empty, Emily retrieved her bag from the corridor, locked the door, and dropped the metal bar across the threshold. Then she checked that each window was still locked and the glass figurines were still in place on the sashes. Only then did she feel safe even though that lasted for a fleeting moment.

Sighing to herself, she moved to the kitchen table and dropped the tote bag on it with a dull thud.

As she pulled out a chair, she placed the gun down next to the bag but kept it well within reach. Her stomach rumbled as she removed the take out meal and a bottle of water. Taking off the cover, Emily dug into her dinner but after ten bites her appetite deserted her and she pushed the plate away. The doctor had told her, no, order her to eat more to bring her weight up. She knew she had to but right now the mere thought of food made her nauseous.

Grabbing the water bottle and gun Emily moved over to the chair by the window. Setting down the gun on the side table she twisted off the cap and took a small sip while staring outside at the moonlit boulevard. This was where she spent most of time during the day watching as life passed her by and at night when she couldn't sleep, which most of the time the whole night, wondering what had happened to strong, confident woman she once knew as herself. Now she was this paranoid woman who jumped at her own shadow, who rarely ventured out of her apartment except to get supplies and whose constant companion was her Glock. She ate, slept and even showered with the damn thing.

Unconsciously, she loosened and then retightened the cap on the bottle over and over as she thought about her friends she had left behind. Were they still grieving for her or had they moved on and forgotten about her? Had Jack started soccer? Was Reid still having headaches? Did JJ still hate her job at the State Department? Had Seaver finished her training with the team? Was Morgan still beating himself up for not getting to her in time even when he really did? Emily didn't have any answers to her questions and she never would. While they lived their lives, she merely existed which was what she deserved for shattering their trust in her.

"I'm better off dead," she said aloud to the empty room. A sharp pain from her ulcer seconded the motion.

Realizing she was about to sink into a deep morose that would have her pacing all night, she tried to focus on something to cheer her up. Tonight was online Scrabble with JJ. Emily was never so thankful when she had found the note in the envelope listing the website and JJ's user name. Those games with her friend kept her sane.

Emily looked at her watch and grimaced. It was seven o'clock here, which meant it was only two o'clock in Washington. JJ usually didn't sign on until after nine when Henry went to bed so she had seven long and lonely hours to kill. Playing Scrabble at two in the morning wasn't hard for her since she hardy slept longer than three hours before the nightmares came to haunt her. She would then spend the rest of the night pacing, catching catnaps here and there during the day. Occasionally she could go for several days without sleep until exhaustion caught up with her and send her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

"What to do? What to do?" she asked herself gazing around the sad apartment.

She briefly contemplated reading a book but decided against it, citing lack of concentration. Her eyes fell on the laptop resting on the side table. That would work, she decided. Might as well as surf the Internet while she waited. Maybe she would get lucky and JJ would sign on early.

Flipping the laptop open, she waited patiently for it to boot up. Quickly she logged in and clicked on her list of favorite sites. The first one she always looked at was the website for one of the local news channels in Washington, D.C.. She may not live there anymore but she like to keep up to date on the current events. It made her feel like she was still somewhat connected to her old life.

Emily scanned the top stories from the noon newscast, finding nothing of interest. They were the same old stories: murders, robberies, and some political scandal. She was about to close the window when she saw the Amber Alert. It always tore at her heartstrings whenever a child was reported missing. This one appeared to be a six-year-old boy missing from the National Zoo by the name of….

Emily rocked back in shock as the name 'Jack Hotchner' jumped off the screen at her.

"Jack?" she said in disbelief. "That can't be true." She quickly read the description, her stomach tightening into knots with each word.

In stunned silence she stared at the screen, desperately trying to wrap her mind around it.

How could that adorable boy go missing? She thought. Hotch would have drummed into his son's head the dangers of talking to strangers and going with them.

"Hotch!" she uttered, covering her mouth with her hand. "He must be frantic. I have to do something."

Forgetting where she was, Emily jumped to her feet, shrugging on her coat as she hurried to the door. The urgency that overwhelmed her made her fingers clumsy, causing her to struggle with the locks. Just as she was about to throw open the door and rush blindly into the corridor, reality caught up with her. She was thousand of miles away and there wasn't a damn thing she could do.

Breathing hard from her mad dash to the door, she felt the despair of helplessness washing over her.

"God Damn It!" she roared and lashed out, driving her right fist into the solid oak door. Pain radiated down her arm in steady bursts.

"Shit!" she swore, cradling her injured hand. She looked down to see blood seeping from the broken skin on the already bruising knuckles. Carefully Emily flexed her fingers grimacing at the pain but was relieved that she could move them. Hopefully the hand was just bruised and not broken.

Slowly she made her way back to the kitchen table and sank into the chair. Picking up a napkin, she gently wrapped it around the bleeding knuckles. She lost track of how much time she spent watching the makeshift bandage slowly turn red.

She was totally frustrated that she couldn't help find Jack and that she didn't have enough information on the search. The Amber Alert gave her the basics but she needed more, like where in the zoo he went missing, who saw him last and what was being done to find him.

Emily's eyes lit up when she when she figured out where to find it. Pulling over the tote bag, she dug around inside until she found her emergency cell phone. Flipping it open, she gazed at the glowing numbers suddenly feeling very nervous.

Taking a deep breath, she muttered, "Get a grip, Emily. Just do it," and punched in the familiar number.


	5. Chapter 5

_Glad everyone is enjoying the story and thanks to those who reviewed. So sit back, put your feet up ( I'm not responsible if you tip over backwards from leaning too far) and have fun. _

* * *

><p>JJ and Hotch stood to one side while the zoo director coordinated the search for Jack. As each team called in, he marked off the area as clear then assigned them to another section. Morgan, Rossi and Reid had opted to join the search teams with the hope that Jack would come out of hiding if he heard a familiar voice. Even though he was worried about his son, Hotch couldn't help but admire how efficiently the director was handling the search. It had had taken less than two hours to empty the zoo of it's patrons and another four was estimated to scour the place from top to bottom.<p>

Hotch heard JJ's phone ring and from the corner of his eye he watched her step away from the command post to hear better. A few minutes later, she returned with a frown.

"Garcia?" he asked, turning toward her.

"Yeah," JJ said with a shake of her head. "She didn't have any luck with the surveillance footage. She was able to track his progress from the time he entered the zoo to when he exited the gift shop. But once he and his classmates turned the corner she lost him. Apparently there is a big blind spot there." JJ looked at him with sad eyes.

"Did she try the cameras at the gate?"

"Yes. Like I said, she has a picture of Jack coming in but not going out. Now she is focusing on the exit videos. Penelope said she is trying her hardest. She even pulled in Kevin to help."

"Good. The more eyes the better. Keep me informed," Hotch said as he started to turn his attention back to the activity at the command post.

"Will do," she said just as her phone rang again. She smiled at Hotch. "Maybe that's her. Be back in a few," and walked away.

* * *

><p>As JJ walked she glanced down at the phone and frowned. The screen didn't show Garcia's name but an unknown number. Puzzled, she hit the connect button and said, "Jennifer Jareau."<p>

"_JJ?"_

She stopped in her tracks at the sound of the voice she had dearly missed hearing. Quickly JJ looked around to make sure she was alone.

"Emily?" she asked quietly.

"_Yes, it's me."_

JJ smiled broadly. "It is so good to hear your voice."

"_Same here."_

JJ's delight in hearing from her friend quickly faded when she realized that this wasn't a social call. Something had to be wrong.

"Em? What's wrong? Are you in danger?"

"_Is it true?" _Emily bluntly asked her.

"What's true?" JJ asked puzzled.

"_Is Jack missing?"_

JJ pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it dumfounded. How the hell did Emily know that?

She took a deep breath and released it slowly to collect herself before putting the phone back up to her ear.

"Yes," she said carefully. "How did you find out?"

She heard Emily mutter 'damn' under her breath. _"I was checking out the D.C. news online and there it was. I can't believe it."_

"Neither can we, Em."

_How's Hotch?"_

JJ looked back over her shoulder at her boss. "Hotch is being Hotch," she confessed. "Face unreadable and keeping it bottled up. He did let the teacher have it, which," she said quickly, "he did apologize for. I know it is tearing him up inside."

"_I bet. What are you guys doing to find him?"_

She quickly brought Emily up to speed. Telling her how it happened and how the search was progressing. Throughout it, she could hear soft footsteps in the background and knew that Emily was pacing and if she wasn't holding the phone, she would be picking at her nails.

When she finished, silence hung over the line. Afraid that they might have been disconnected, JJ quickly asked, "Em? You still there?"

"_Yeah, JJ, I'm still here." _There was the sound of defeat in Emily's voice. _"I feel so helpless. I adore that kid and it is tearing me up that I can't do a damn thing to help you. I'm thousands of miles away stuck in this hell hole of an apartment."_

"I'm sorry, Emily," JJ said softly, trying to ease her friend's pain. "I wish you were here, too. I would have loved watching you cower the lions into a full confession," she joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

A small chuckle came over the line. _"I would have had the gorillas handing over their banana stash in five minutes."_

JJ laughed. God, she missed her friend's sense of humor. "Don't worry, Emily. We'll find him."

"_Do you think…" _Emily trailed off in hesitation.

"Think what?"

"_Do you think it is Doyle?" _Emily blurted out.

"Doyle?" JJ echoed in surprise. That hadn't occurred to her but it seemed an unlikely possibility since it has been five months. He would have struck much earlier. JJ quickly dismissed the idea and set about easing Emily's mind not wanting her to obsess about it.

"No. It is just a simple case of a kid wandering off. All kids do it. Jack is somewhere here in the zoo."

"_Positive?"_

"Positive," JJ said confidently.

She heard Emily letting out a little sigh of relief. _"Good. Well I better let you go. Tell Hotch I have him and Jack in my thoughts."_

JJ smiled into the phone. "I will. And Emily?"

"_Yes?"_

"I miss you. Be safe."

"_So do I and I will."_

* * *

><p>JJ hurried back to Hotch and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. When he turned, she gestured for him to follow her. Puzzled, he did and they soon were standing in a quiet corner. He stood with his arms crossed, looking at her expectedly.<p>

"Well? What did Garcia find?" His voice was tinged with a hint of annoyance when she didn't answer right away.

"The call wasn't from Garcia," JJ said at last. "It was Emily."

Hotch stared at her unblinking for a moment then he drew his eyebrows down into a deep frown. "Emily?"

JJ nodded. "Yes."

Earlier Hotch had wondered if this day could possibly get any worse. Apparently the answer was an absolute 'yes'. Now he had two things to worry about: Jack's disappearance and Emily's safety.

"What happened to her? Was her cover blown?" he demanded.

"Oh, no," JJ said quickly, holding up her hands. "Nothing like that. Emily found out about Jack."

"How?" He asked in surprise.

"She saw the Amber Alert online and it threw her for such a loop that she had to call me to find out if it was true."

"How did she sound?" Hotch asked her with concern.

JJ grimaced. "Tired and at wits end. It's killing her that she is stuck in Paris and not here helping us. I think the isolation is getting to her."

Hotch nodded. "I can understand that. Emily is not the type to stand idly by on the sidelines doing nothing. She has to be in the thick of things unfortunately sometimes to her own detriment."

"I tried to relieve her mind but I'm not sure I did," she admitted. "She even asked me if Doyle could be behind Jack's disappearance."

"Doyle," Hotch said in a flat voice causing JJ to look at him in concern.

"Do you think she is right?" she asked, getting a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Hotch shook his head. "I don't believe so. After Foyet, Jack is very leery of strangers especially men. If Doyle tried to approach him, he would have run to his teacher. But…" he hesitated. "If we don't find Jack here, we may have to consider it."

"Damn," JJ swore. "Then we better find him."

"Agreed. Lets get back command center." Side by side they headed back.

They hadn't gotten far when a voice rang out behind them. "Agent Hotchner!"

Hotch and JJ turned to see an overweight police officer lumbering up to them. The man skidded to a stop before them, gulping in deep breaths of air. His face was so red as a tomato that JJ was afraid that he might drop dead on the spot.

"I was just coming back from checking the parking lot," he wheezed, "when I saw this stuck to the windshield of your SUV." He held out an envelope. "It has your name on it."

Hotch frowned as he took the proffered envelope and turned it over carefully in his hands. "Thank you, officer. You can go now."

"Ah, okay," he said and headed off.

He waited until the man was out of sight before he opened the envelope. While JJ looked on, he folded back the flap, pulled out a slip of paper and read it quickly.

JJ watched as he clenched his jaw in anger. "It's no longer a consideration," he growled, holding out the note for JJ to read.

"YOUR SON FOR MY SON."

* * *

><p><em>Ahha! The plot doth thicken. Don't forget that little old button below. It's begging to be pressed.<em>


	6. Chapter 6

_Guess what time it is? It's time again for the next segment of 'Shadpup's Suspenseful Shenaniganisms!' So sit back (remember my earlier disclaimer), say the title three times fast (I am also not liable for tongues getting tied up into knots) and enjoy. Let's get cracking._

* * *

><p>"YOUR SON FOR MY SON."<p>

JJ stared at the note in shock. "Doyle?"

"Doyle." Hotch agreed, grim faced.

She let out a small moan. "Emily was right."

"She was. We need to get everyone back here now."

Without saying a word, JJ whipped out her phone and sent out a short text to the rest of the team.

Within minutes Morgan, Rossi and Reid came running up with puzzled looks on each of their faces.

"What's up?' Morgan asked once they were gathered in a circle.

Wordlessly, Hotch handed him the note. Rossi and Reid leaned in closer and together the three men read it.

Reid was the first one to look up, his eyes wide and full of worry. "Doyle?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes," JJ answered him.

"Damn it!" Morgan swore and looked around for something to punch. Finding nothing he settled for slamming his fist into the palm of his other hand.

Rossi took it all in before asking calmly, "Why now? Why not five months ago?"

Hotch frowned as he pondered the question. "Apparently he hasn't had any luck in finding Declan and now in desperation he is going to try to get us to do the dirty work for him."

Shaking his head Reid said, "But we don't know where he is. Emily never told us before she…" he faltered.

"Died," Hotch finished for the young agent. "Doyle is under the false impression that we do."

"Can't we just tell him that?" Reid asked hopefully.

Rossi gave him a rueful smile while Morgan looked on, silently fuming. "I don't think he will believe us. He'll want proof."

"So what do we do?" Morgan asked.

"We need to regroup back at the BAU," Hotch said decisively. "We need to starting building another profile on Doyle as a kidnapper and shift through everything Morgan has found on him so far."

Morgan shook his head. "It's not much. What little I did find led absolutely no where."

"Maybe a fresh set of eyes will catch something you missed," JJ suggested.

"Possible," Morgan said with a shrug.

Rossi held up a finger. "What are we going to do about this? We can't walk up to the zoo director and say 'Oops. Sorry, wrong kid. Got to run now'."

The team stood there watching the zoo employees swarm all over the property.

"Rossi is right," JJ agreed. "We can't let all these people continue to waste their time searching for Jack when we know he isn't here. We have to tell them something."

Reid stared off into space, nibbling on the knuckle of his thumb. "We could," he started to say then paused when four sets of eyes turned to him. He swallowed and started again.

"We could say that we have just been informed that Jack's aunt had picked him up and hadn't realized that he hadn't told his teacher."

JJ looked at him skeptically. "Spence, there's a little hole in your idea. How would Jessica know to come and get him?"

"He could have called her." Reid gave her a 'well' look.

Playing the devil's advocate, she said, "He is too young to have a cell phone."

"Doesn't need one," he said brightly. "I noticed the zoo still has some pay phones. One is right there." Reid pointed to phone by the gift shop.

Morgan looked thoughtfully. "Jack wasn't feeling good so he calls his aunt to come and get him. He doesn't call you because he doesn't want to bother you at work. Jessica picks him up and takes him to the doctor not knowing that Jack forgot to tell his teacher. When they get home, she see that Amber Alert and immediately calls you." He looked at Hotch. "It could work."

Rossi gave the young genius a slap on the back. "Way to go, Dr. Reid."

Reid couldn't help but give him a sheepish smile.

"We have one problem solved," Rossi observed. "What about our other little problem?" he raised a curious eyebrow at the team.

"Doyle?" Morgan asked.

"Strauss."

JJ couldn't help but roll her eyes. "I forgot all about her. I don't have a clue if she knows that Jack is missing."

Hotch looked at each team member carefully. "We have to keep it that way. If she knows, we tell her the same story that we told the zoo director. If not, then she must remain in the dark."

"Are you sure that is wise, Hotch?" Rossi asked.

"Positive. Jack's kidnapping must remain solely with us. If Strauss get involved she would form another task force and take us off the case."

"And look how well the last one worked," Rossi said sarcastically.

"Doyle got away," Morgan growled.

"Emily died," Reid said in a small voice. The rest of the team nodded in agreement.

"We can't let Strauss take over," JJ vowed.

"Does everyone agree? Once we start, there is no going back," Hotch pointed out.

JJ, Rossi, Morgan and Reid looked among themselves before answering, silently communicating with each other. One final glance, they all turned to Hotch and said "Agreed."

* * *

><p>Emily paced. After talking with JJ she felt somewhat mollified but not enough to prevent her from circling her apartment over and over. Absently chewing on a thumbnail, Emily mulled over their conversation in her mind, searching for any hidden meanings. She attempted to look at Jack's disappearance from different angles, hoping for a glimmer of insight to why he had wandered off but nothing came to light except disappointment.<p>

The more she thought about it, the more agitated she grew and her pace quicken. Something was not right. Something was off that she couldn't put her finger on. Emily felt that she had all the pieces of the puzzle but she couldn't figure out how to put them together. Yet.

"What is wrong with this picture?" she said to herself, thinking that answer might come quicker if she talked it out loud. It was her own version of the BAU's conference room but instead of seven minds hashing it out, it was just hers and it was woefully out of practice.

"What am I not seeing?" She paused to gaze at the small collection of crayon drawings taped to one wall that JJ had given her while she was in the hospital. They had given her great comfort during the long hours and days when she was alone. When it had come time to relocate to Paris, Emily had left them behind since they would be painful reminders of her old life only to find them folded carefully in the envelope JJ had given her that night.

Henry's were a wild splash of colors scribbled over the entire sheets of paper. One, she could have sworn, had every possible color from a large crayon box. Emily had spent hours trying to picture what Henry was seeing when he drew them.

Jack's, on the other hand, were carefully drawn. You could tell he had spent a lot of time on getting the details and colors correct. She had one of a pitch black Sergio with brilliant blue eyes playing with a bright ball of yellow yarn and another of what looked like a sunburned raccoon sunning itself on a slate gray stone with patches of snow on the ground.

"That's it," she said, reaching out to touch the Sergio drawing. "Jack's carefulness."

Emily recalled several times when Jack was around that when something had caught his interest, he would watch it intently but he never went over to investigate.

"That means," she said aloud, "he never would have wandered from the group. If he isn't lost then he had to have been taken."

With that admission, Emily resumed her frantic pacing.

"If he was taken, was it a random grab? If it was, the predator was rather gutsy to grab a child in broad daylight and in the middle of a crowded zoo. He would have had to lure Jack away from the group but Jack wouldn't have gone along." Emily sighed. "So that leaves out random kidnapping. What's left?"

"A deliberate one," she concluded. "Someone with a grudge against Hotch or…" Emily paused as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

"Me," she uttered, stumbling to a halt. Emily closed her eyes. "Doyle." She shook her head in frustration. "But why Jack?"

Declan, her mind shouted at her. Doyle wants to trade Jack for his son. "But Hotch doesn't know where I hid him."

Thinking furiously, Emily continued to pace. What if Hotch knew, would he trade one boy for the other? The F.B.I. agent wouldn't but what about the father? How far would a father go to protect his son?

* * *

><p>"JJ, ride with me," Hotch asked as they were leaving the zoo after talking to the director.<p>

The zoo director had been very understanding when Hotch told him the 'story' and apologized for wasting their time.

"Don't think anything about it, Agent Hotchner," the man had said with a causal shrug. "We'll use today as this month's training exercise. No harm done. I'm just happy your son is safe and sound. That is the most important thing."

"It is," Hotch had agreed.

The two men had then shook hands and the director gave Hotch two complimentary passes for when Jack was feeling better. Mrs. Moore took the news by crying, only this time they were tears of joy. Hotch apologized again for his earlier behavior which she also shrugged off, stating that she was simply relieved and was looking forward to seeing Jack when he came back to camp.

"Uh…sure," JJ said and climbed into the SUV.

They drove for several minutes in complete silence both with their eyes glued to the road ahead. Finally Hotch spoke, "I need you to call Emily back and tell her we found Jack."

JJ turned to look at him in surprise. "You want me to lie to Emily?"

Hotch quickly glanced at her. "We have no choice. We have to get her mind off of Jack and back onto her own safety."

"By lying? Hotch, I told you I'm tired of lying to my family and that includes Emily."

"I know you did," Hotch said with sympathy. "But we both know Emily. The longer she doesn't hear from you, the more obsess she will become. She will be like a dog with a bone. She's going to continue to gnaw at it until she finally puts two and two together."

"And comes up with Doyle," JJ said with a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers. "She'll blame herself and then try to fix it."

"Exactly. We can't afford to have Emily mixed up in this. I can't worry about her and Jack's safety at the same time."

"I don't like it but I'll do it on one condition," JJ said.

Hotch arched an eyebrow. "What?"

JJ gave him a weak smile. "You do all the worrying about Jack and leave the worrying about Emily to me."

"Agreed," he said nodding.

JJ sat back in the passenger seat and pulled out her phone. She quickly scrolled through her received calls until she found Emily's number. She hit the call button and put the phone to her ear.

After several seconds had passed, she pulled down the phone to frown at the screen. This time she punched in the numbers slowly and redialed Emily's phone. This continued for several minutes while Hotch tossed questioning glances her way.

"Hotch, I'm getting nothing," JJ confessed.

"What do you mean 'nothing'?"

"Nothing," JJ said. "No ring tone, no voice mail, no messages. Nothing." JJ took a deep breath. "I think Emily dumped her phone."

"Damn," Hotch swore, glaring through the windshield while his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles turned white.

"She's in the wind."

* * *

><p><em>And do you know what that means? Do ya? You do? Good cause I haven't a clue. Stay tuned for next weeks exciting segment: Strauss, the danish and a trip to the potty. <em>


	7. Chapter 7

_Welcome back. Glad to see that you'll returned for this weeks segment of Shadpup's Suspenseful Shenaniganisms: Strauss, the danish, and a trip to the potty. So pull up a comfy chair, fetch a cool drink and enjoy. And by drink I mean something non alcholic. Can't have ya'll passing out half way through. _

* * *

><p>"Mademoiselle?"<p>

"Mademoiselle?" the voice repeated followed by a gentle touch to the shoulder.

Emily woke with a jolt, eyes wide, breath caught in her throat. Her right hand automatically going for the nonexistent gun on her hip.

"Mademoiselle, are you alright?" the voice asked again.

Emily turned her head in the direction of the voice and had to blink several times before the face of the concerned flight attendant came into focus. "I'm fine. Why?" she asked slightly confused. She gave her head a slight shake to clear it of the cobwebs of her latest nightmare.

"You were talking in your sleep."

"Oh," she said in a soft voice then gave the woman a rueful smile. "Guess I was having a bad dream. I apologize if I disturbed any of the passengers."

The flight attendant smiled back. "You didn't. I was the only one who heard you."

"That's good," Emily said and ran a weary hand over her eyes.

The flight attendant quickly studied the woman sitting before her. She took in the bandaged hand, the dark circles under the wary eyes, and the way she was curled into a tight blanket wrapped ball, pressing as close to the fuselage as possible. She wondered what had happened to this woman to make her view her surroundings with such trepidation.

"You look like you could use something to eat."

Emily shook her head. "I'm not really hungry."

"You should still eat something. It's a long flight. If not a full meal, a snack, oui?"

Emily smiled and nodded. "Oui. Merci."

"I'll be right back," she said before heading for the galley.

A few minutes later, she returned bearing a plate with a muffin, a croissant, a danish and a bottle of water. "I wasn't sure what you might like so I brought a little bit of everything," she said brightly as she unfolded the tray for the empty seat next to Emily's to set the plate and water down.

"Merci," Emily thanked her again, wishing she could call the flight attendant by name but she hadn't paid any attention to the pre-flight talk, preferring to retreat into her own head. "I like all of them."

"Good," she said with a smile. "I'll expect them to be all gone when I come back. My name is Josette if you need anything else."

"Merci, Josette."

Emily watched Josette walk toward the front of the cabin before reaching over to pick up the croissant. She eased her legs out from under her and stretched them, trying to get the kinks out from sitting on them too long. How long was I asleep, she wondered and took a look at her watch. A little after 3 a.m. it read so she had been out for three hours since she knew she had nodded off shortly after take off. She sighed. The nightmares were right on schedule.

When she tried to tear off a piece of the croissant with her right hand, it refused to cooperate at first. The fingers and the hand had stiffened up during her nap but the dull throbbing was still there. Now she was a little afraid that she might have done more damage to it than she had originally thought. That was not good but there was nothing she could do about right now. She'll just have to deal with the ache.

Nibbling on the croissant, Emily gazed out the window into pitch-black night thinking back on the hectic hours before boarding the red eye for home.

Once she had come to the conclusion that Ian Doyle was behind Jack's disappearance, Emily knew what she had to do. The time had come. Time to stop hiding in the shadows, to step forward and take her fate and now Jack's into her own hands. Through her carelessness, she had brought Doyle into the team's lives and it was up to her, and her alone, to expel him. With this newly found determination, Emily jumped into action.

The first thing she did was to contact several of the major airlines to reserve a seat on the earliest flights they had back to the States. She wouldn't pick which airline to fly on until she arrived at the airport. Emily then set about eliminating her presence from the apartment.

Grabbing her travel bag, Emily quickly stuffed her meager wardrobe inside. Any items that did not have any particular meaning, like books and knickknacks, she left behind. Anything of a more personal nature that she didn't want to go through customs, she would pack in a box to be shipped back to the States. She had to travel light. The less she had on her, the quicker she would get through customs unmolested.

Moving over to the bedroom closet, Emily knelt down and pried up two floorboards. From the space below she pulled out a cardboard box that held her two other passports and a modest stack of money both in Euros and U.S. dollars. Replacing the boards, she picked up the box and carried it to the kitchen table. This was her getaway stash. Every week since she has been in Paris, she would go to the bank and withdraw five hundred in Euros and then exchange half of it for U.S. dollars at a different location.

Emily left the U.S. dollars and the passports in the box. The Euros she would need to pay for the airline ticket and for anything else she might need before departure. What was left, she could change over at the airport. Fetching a towel, she wrapped up the money and passports into a tidy little bundle and tucked it in the corner of the box. She then added the laptop, a few books and Jack and Henry's drawings. If she hurried, she could the box shipped out immediately.

As she turned to give the apartment one last look, she inadvertently hit her injured hand against the side of the table, sending a new burst of pain down her arm. Wincing, she looked at the wounded hand realizing she couldn't go out with it wrapped in a blood-encrusted napkin. Heading to the bathroom, she opened the drawer that held the leftover supplies from her hospital stay.

Emily carefully peeled the napkin off her scraped knuckles, biting her lip when parts of the make shift bandage reopened some of the abrasions. Quickly she cleaned them and dabbed on a healthy dose of antibiotic ointment. She then applied a sterile pad over the knuckles and wrapped her hand with gauze to keep it in place. Satisfied with her handiwork, she headed back to the kitchen.

There were two things left to do and they were both sitting on the table. The cell phone and gun. Neither of which she could take with her. The gun was obvious, the cell phone not so much. Emily was worried that JJ might attempt to trace it once her friend realized she was on the move. She placed the phone on the floor and ground it to pieces with the heel of her boot. The Glock she dismantled.

Putting on her coat, Emily slid the remains of both into its pocket. Slinging the travel bag over one shoulder and tucking the box under her other arm, Emily slipped away into the Paris night, pausing here and there along the river to drop the pieces into the churning water below. Once her pocket was empty she hailed a taxi to catch the flight she was now on.

During her reminiscing, Emily had finished the croissant and not wanting to disappoint Josette after all the trouble she had gone through to bring her a snack, she ate the others and downed the bottle of water. Feeling full, she settled back into the cushions, pulled the blanket tighter and let the droning of the engines lull her back into what she hoped was dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>Hotch was making his way to the conference room when he was waylaid by Erin Strauss.<p>

"Ma'am," he said in greeting, keeping his face impassive.

"Agent Hotchner, I just heard about your son. Is he alright?" she asked with what he thought was a look of concern. With Strauss you could never quite tell if she was being genuine or just being polite. He was leaning toward the second.

"He's fine," he answered and spun her the tale that the team had concocted at the zoo.

"Good." Her duty done, Strauss turned the conversation back to business. "What are you and the team currently working on?"

"Nothing at this time. It's been a quiet week so we are using the time to catch up on paperwork and are about to review some files. That is where I am heading now." Hotch pointed to the conference room.

"I'll leave you to it, Agent Hotchner," she said briskly. "Let me know if a case comes up." And walked away.

"You'll be the first to know," Hotch said quietly with a sarcastic tone.

"I take it Strauss ambushed you," Rossi asked in amusement when Hotch stormed through the door a few seconds later.

"She did."

"Did she buy it?"

"Hook, line and sinker," Hotch said with a small smile. The rest of the team couldn't help but smile along with him.

"Everyone take a seat," he ordered, pulling out a chair. "Let's get started." The team quickly sat down. "What do we have so far?"

"Nothing," Morgan said, slapping the table top in disgust.

"I think I have something," Garcia spoke up. "I was going through the exit footage and found this." She hit a few keys on her laptop and an image appeared on the large monitor. The team gazed at a picture showing a man with a sleeping child resting against his shoulder.

"Unfortunately both of their faces are turned away from the camera and before you ask," she waved a fuzzy topped pen at Reid who quickly shut his mouth, "there are no other angles and no reflexive surfaces to get a reverse image. Anyhoo, I ran it through my program that measures, you know, height, build, inseam etc. and it matches Doyle's physical description," Penelope concluded softly.

"Hotch? Do the clothes the boy is wearing match Jack's?" JJ asked.

"Yes," he said firmly, staring at his son, hoping this is not the last image he will ever have of him.

Rossi looked around the table. "Now we know how Doyle got him out."

Morgan shook his head. "No one is going to pay any attention to a father carrying his tired son out after a long day at the zoo."

"Any cameras in the parking lot?" Reid asked.

"None," Garcia said sadly. "The zoo is in the process of upgrading its surveillance system and the parking lot is scheduled for next week."

"So we don't know the type of vehicle or in what direction he went," JJ said matter of factly.

"Yep." Penelope turned to Hotch. "How long has our little G-Man been gone?"

"Six hours," he answered without looking at his watch.

"Why hasn't Doyle called with his demands?"

"He will," Rossi said, leaning back in his chair with his fingers steepled before him. "When he is good and ready. He's going to make us sweat for a while."

* * *

><p>The sound of the door opening ripped Jack from his sleep. Bolting upright, he scooted backwards until his back was pressed against the wall. Keeping a firm grip on the red panda, he pulled his legs up tightly to his chest in an attempt to make himself as small as possible. Eyes wide in fright he watched the door swing open.<p>

Ian Doyle slowly entered the room, eyes looking for the little boy. Spotting him huddled on the mattress, he walked over and set a plate and glass on the floor. He crouched down so that he was eye level with Jack.

"Are you hungry? I brought you a peanut butter sandwich and milk."

Jack shook his head.

Doyle shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'll leave it here in case you get hungry later." He stood up and headed back to the door.

"I gotta pee," Jack said suddenly.

He turned around and gave Jack a half smile. "Come along then."

Jack hesitated, the call of nature battling with his fear of the man. The call of nature won. He climbed to his feet, clutching the stuffed animal like a security blanket and slowly walked over to Doyle's side. Doyle held out his hand and Jack grudgingly took it.

Doyle led him to the bathroom and waited patiently outside. Once he was finished, Doyle took him back. Jack pulled his hand free and scurried into the room. Spinning around, he shouted defiantly, "I want to go home!"

The man looked down at him with the same half smile on his face. "I'm afraid that isn't going to happen any time soon, Jack. Your Dad has a task he has to complete before I can let you go."

"What?" Jack asked warily.

"He has to find my son."

"You lost him?"

Doyle let out a small chuckle. "In a way. A woman that I thought I loved stole him from me."

"Why don't you ask her to give him back," Jack asked, the question sounding perfectly reasonable to his six-year old logic.

"I can't. She's dead."

"Oh." Jack's thoughts immediately turned to his Mom, which in turn increased his desire to go home. "I want to go home," he repeated.

Doyle's eyes narrowed. He was across the room before Jack could even blink. Grabbing Jack by the front of his shirt, he pulled him closer until they were face to face. He could see the fear in the boy's eyes and enjoyed it.

"Stop the whining," he hissed in Jack's face, giving him a shake. "You are going to behave and do everything I say. If you don't, I'm going to kill your Daddy. Understand?"

Jack nodded wordlessly.

"Good." He let go of Jack and straightened out the front of the shirt. He then pointed to the food. "Now eat. I have a phone call to make."

* * *

><p><em>Gee. So many things going on. Emily's heading home. The team figuring out how Doyle got Jack. How Jack is doing with Doyle. Now don't forget to press that review button. It's been complaining about how it is being ignored. It hates that. So turn in next week for the next exciting segment: Profiling and the new toy boy.<em>


	8. Chapter 8

_Welcome back to this weeks segment of Shadowpup's Suspenseful Shenanganisms. I want to give a big shout out to those who review regularly. You all know who you are. :) Thanks for the support and input. All totally appreciated. Now on with the show. Enjoy._

* * *

><p>Before meeting the team, Hotch had arranged with the switchboard to transfer any of his incoming calls to the conference room's phone. He had assumed that Doyle would personally contact him and he was not disappointed when the phone rang. He glanced over at Garcia who gave him a thumbs up that the trace was ready.<p>

Putting the phone on speaker so that the rest of the team could listen in, he said "Aaron Hotchner."

"_I assume you got my message?"_

"I want to talk to my son," Hotch demanded, getting straight to the point.

Doyle chuckled. _"I'm afraid that isn't possible. Do you think I am stupid enough to call you from the same place I am keeping your son? Garcia, are you running the trace on me?"_

Penelope's eyes jerked up from the computer screen in shock. Nervously she glanced around the room. Morgan laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"No, I don't," Hotch answered, drawing Doyle's attention back on him.

"_I want my son, Agent Hotchner."_

"You're son?" Hotch asked pretending to be confused. "According to our files your son is dead."

"_Certainly the late Lauren Reynolds, excuse me, Emily Prentiss told you what she did with my son."_

Morgan bristled at the way Emily's name slid off of Doyle's tongue.

"Emily," Hotch said, placing special emphasis on her name, "Never told us about you so why would she tell us about your son? Declan, I believe his name was."

"_Yes, Declan. Seems you have a bigger problem than you thought. Tell you what. You have 72 hours, starting now, to turn my son over to me. One second longer and you can kiss your son goodbye," _he threatened and hung up.

Hotch turned to Garcia. "Anything?"

Penelope studied the screen and shook her head slowly. "He used a burner phone. I've got it pinned down to one cell tower but that covers a big area. Sorry."

"And by the time we got there," Rossi pointed out, "Doyle would be long gone. He didn't become a terrorist by being dumb."

"We bought ourselves some time," Hotch said. "We're lucky he didn't demand an immediate exchange."

"So what do we do now?" Reid asked.

"We develop the profile and shift through what Morgan has uncovered."

"Shouldn't we start looking for Declan?" Morgan asked.

Hotch folded his hands on the table. "I prefer to keep him out of the equation for now. We might be able to find Doyle without him. But…" he paused and sighed, "if we come up empty handed then we will have to involve Declan."

"I don't like the idea of using a child as a pawn," JJ protested.

Hotch looked at her. "I don't like it either," he confessed. "But we may not have any choice."

"Doyle doesn't have any qualms about it," Reid said.

"That is what makes us different from him, Reid," Rossi said. "We care."

"Exactly," Hotch agreed. "Lets get to work."

Over the next several hours, the team goes over everything Morgan had unearthed with a fine-toothed comb. No leaf was left unturned. The smallest of leads was followed to its eventual dead end. They brainstormed, tossing out ideas and examining them from every angle. The most obscure clues were fully vetted.

"We're getting no where," Morgan said in frustration. Leaning back in his chair, he put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.

"I can't think straight," JJ said, trying in vain to suppress a yawn.

Hotch looked at his watch and blinked in surprise. He hadn't realized how late it was. "Look, it's one o'clock in the morning. Let's call it a night. Everyone go home and get some sleep."

JJ looked at him. "Are you going home?"

"No." Hotch couldn't bear the thought of going home to an empty house.

"Then I am staying," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Me too," Reid chimed in.

"You know my answer," Rossi said with a raised eyebrow.

Hotch looked at team and felt a surge of fondness for them.

"Thank you. We still need to get some sleep so lets break into two four-hour shifts. We can use the offices."

He looked at JJ, Morgan and Garcia. "Why don't you three take the first shift? We can change at 5 a.m. Does that work?"

Everyone nodded.

"Good." Hotch turned to Morgan. "Morgan, when you come back, start looking for Declan."

"Got it."

Morgan nudged Garcia who had her head resting in her hand, eyes closed, glasses perched precariously on the tip of her nose. "Wake up, Baby Girl. Time to go nighty night."

She gave him a sleepy smile. "You going to tuck me in?"

"As snug as bug in a rug."

"Ooo…that sounds kinky."

"Only to you, Baby Girl. Only to you."

* * *

><p>At 5 a.m. they switched shifts. Before heading off to catch some shuteye, Hotch told them what they had found and it was not good. Nothing new came to light. Hopefully Morgan and the ladies would have better luck in tracking down Declan's location.<p>

"Finding Declan is going to be like trying to find a needle in a haystack," Garcia said as the three of them sat down, fresh coffees in hand. "Emily could have stashed him anywhere."

"True," JJ agreed.

Morgan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Why did Emily come back here?"

"Family?" Garcia volunteered.

JJ shook her head. "She wasn't close to her mother."

"She hid Declan here," Morgan concluded.

"That makes sense," JJ said. "He's far enough away to be safe but close enough for her to keep an eye on."

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Well that narrows it down to Washington D.C. and all the out laying areas in Virginia and Maryland. Smaller haystack."

"You know," JJ said as she tapped her pen on the table. "Emily would have had to get Declan a new identity."

"Right. A forger. We can check Emily's foreign and domestic connections."

Morgan frowned. "We don't know who her connections were. Personally, I would go domestic. She probably needed the Id after she got him into the country."

Garcia's eyes sparkled at the prospect of a new search. "Domestic forgers from here. I'll include Boston since that is where it all went down." Her fingers danced over the keyboard.

He looked at JJ. "At least now I feel like we're making some progress."

JJ agreed. "Damn," she said suddenly, placing a hand to her waist.

"What?"

"I left my phone at my desk. I was going to call Henry and wish him a good morning. I'll be right back." She hopped up and headed for the bullpen.

While the computer hummed away in delight, Garcia turned worried eyes to Morgan. "We are going to get Jack back, right?"

Morgan gave her hand a squeeze. "We will. I guarantee it."

JJ returned a few minutes later with a concerned look on her face. "Everything all right?" Morgan asked as she sat down.

"Yeah," she said with a smile. "Garcia while the computer is spelunking for forgers, could you run a quick check on this name?"

She peered at the phone. "Sure."

Morgan leaned forward. "Does this name have anything to do with Doyle?"

She shook her head. "Just a person of interest from an old case at the State Dept."

"All done," Garcia announced. "There wasn't much and its on the way to your phone."

"Thanks, PG." JJ rose from her seat. "I have to go make some calls."

"Go." Morgan made a shooing motion. "Baby Girl and I got it." JJ laughed and left.

A few minutes later the computer beeped. Garcia quickly ran her eyes over the list. "I've got twenty-five names here. We need to narrow it down."

"Yes." Morgan leaned back, rolling his pen between his fingers. "It can't be just anyone. It had to be someone Emily trusted."

Penelope's eyes widen when idea clicked in her mind. "Wasn't that guy who was killed along with Emily's friend a forger? Bob Connelly?"

"Ben Correlli," Morgan corrected.

"He's on the list," she all but crowed in triumph. "And didn't we process his belongings?"

"We did."

Garcia leapt from her chair, rushed to the window and looked out over the bullpen that was starting to fill up with the day shift. Spotting the person she wanted, she opened the door and yelled, "Anderson!"

Within minutes Anderson's head poked through the door. Yes, Miss Garcia?" he squeaked. Morgan hid a smile behind his hand.

"We need the evidence from the Ben Correlli case. Pronto," she ordered.

"On it, he said and fled.

Morgan shook his head in silent laughter. "Baby Girl, don't you think it's time to ease up on the man? I think you have punished him enough for accidentally leaning against Emily's desk."

Garcia grinned wickedly. "Oh, I haven't even started. I like having my own boy toy slave."

* * *

><p>Hotch laid on the couch in his office staring at the ceiling. Sleep was proving to be an elusive animal. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Jack. Images flashed through his mind: holding Jack for the first time, bringing him to the BAU and proudly showing him off, Jack and Haley at play in the park, scoring his first goal. Faster and faster the images flew by leading Hotch to believe he watching on film his own life. It was a pleasing viewing until the final frame when Doyle reared his ugly head. Hotch's eyes would fly open while his heart frantically tried to beat its way out of his chest.<p>

He rolled his head to one side when he heard the office door slowly open and JJ cautiously poking her head in.

"I didn't wake you did I?" she asked when she saw him looking at her.

"No," he said, sitting up and absently tighten his tie. "Haven't been able to fall asleep. I keep seeing Jack."

"I'm sorry," she said in sympathy.

He nodded his thanks. "What's up?"

JJ moved into the room and softly closed the door. "It's about Emily. She's here."

Hotch sat up straighter. "In the country?"

She nodded.

"How did you find out? Did she contact you?"

"No," JJ said, grabbing one of the visitor chairs and turning it around. Quickly she sat down. "After Emily was relocated to Paris, I asked Garcia to whip up a little program that can monitor certain names. I entered the three alias I had given her."

"And?"

JJ consulted her phone. A Mallerie Santure passed through customs at JFK at 2 am. Emily then made her connecting flight to Richmond, Virginia which landed a little before 5."

"Richmond?" he asked puzzled. "Not Washington?"

"Nope. Richmond and then the trail went cold. Does she think Doyle is there?"

Hotch shook his head. "I don't believe so. I think Emily is simply covering her tracks. She doesn't want us to find her until she is ready. She'll probably get here by bus or by train where she can pay cash. No paper trail, no trace. Essentially she's a ghost."

"So what do we do? I don't like it that she's out there on her own with no to watch her back," JJ said with a voice tinged with worry.

"I don't either," Hotch said with a shrug, "but there is nothing we can do until she contacts us and she will."

Hotch studied his shoes for a minute then looked at JJ. She could tell from his face that he had made up his mind about something. She waited patiently.

"It's time," he declared.

JJ frowned. "For what?"

"Time to tell the team about Emily."

* * *

><p><em>Wasn't that a wonderful line to end with? I thought so. Now I have you all right where I want you. Eagerly waiting for the next. Wicked aren't I? <em>


	9. Chapter 9

_Looks like another Tuesday has come so I guess you all are eager for the next chapter. Probably. I would be. So here it is. Enjoy. It is my longest one so far. Again a big shout out to all those who have reviewed. I sure do appreciate it. Now get reading._

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><p>Emily was exhausted. Both physically and mentally from the long hours spent in the air and passing through customs. She had surprisingly managed to sleep through the remainder of the flight from Paris with Josette only waking her once when she had noticed the beginning of a nightmare. The decent amount of sleep she had gotten on the plane did not even make a dent in the amount she had lost over the passing months. She fought off the urge to curl up on the nearest bench to take a quick nap and kept moving. She would sleep after she found Jack.<p>

She stood outside the Richmond terminal in the predawn light waiting for the new arrivals to disperse before hailing a taxi to take her to the nearest train station. Once there she snatched up a copy of the train schedules and studied it carefully before settling on Arlington, Virginia as her final destination. Stepping up to the counter, Emily made her purchase and with ticket in hand she settled down in the furthest corner to wait.

As she watched people going about their lives, her mind kept revisiting the major flaw in her plan. She had no idea where Doyle could be hiding. To her knowledge Doyle had never mentioned visiting Washington D.C. but then she was also quite sure that there was a lot he hadn't told her and vice versa. What a couple they had made. Two people shrouded in secrets.

The restlessness in her mind infected the rest of her body. Unable to sit still any longer she hopped to her feet and decided to take a walk around the block, thinking that the fresh air would do her some good. Halfway around Emily stumbled upon a 24-hour drug store and popped in to pick up a few essentials that she had left in Paris like a toothbrush and an ace bandage for her bad hand. Back at the station, she browsed the small newsstand before purchasing a bottle of water and the morning edition newspapers for Richmond and Washington. Then she resettled in her corner to read until it was time to board the train for home.

* * *

><p>Jack rolled over and bumped into the wall. Miffed, he rolled back over and sat up rubbing his eyes. Yawning, he sleepily look around the room expecting to see his Spiderman posters, his shelves filled with toys and books, and the photograph of his Mother on the nightstand beside his bed. Instead he was still in the same dingy room with the same old battered mattress but now with a pillow and blanket the scary man had brought after he had managed to choke down the peanut butter sandwich.<p>

The mere thought of food sent his stomach growling. Setting the red panda carefully on the pillow, he stood up and made his way to the door, secretly hoping it was now unlocked. Much to his dismay it was still bolted from the outside. To vent his frustration Jack gave the door several hard kicks before stomping back to the mattress and flopping down. He sat with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face that would have made his father proud.

Not long after his minor tantrum the door swung open and the scary man strolled in. He stopped in front of Jack and cocked his head to one side.

"Looks like someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning."

Jack glowered.

Doyle chuckled. "I'll take that as a 'yes'." He studied the little boy. "Hungry?"

Jack's scowl deepened when his stomach betrayed him by rumbling louder than the first time.

"A second 'yes'. Do you like cereal?"

Jack nodded slowly.

"What kind?" Doyle asked him patiently.

"Apple Jacks," he grudgingly admitted.

"Apple Jacks for Jack," Doyle said with amusement. "Anything else you want?"

"I want to go home!"

Doyle shook his head. "Not today. Would you like some toys or books perhaps?" He continued when he didn't get an answer. "No? Well then do you like to draw?"

Reluctantly Jack nodded.

"Good." Doyle gave him a smile. "I'll get those for you but before I go, do you need to use the loo?"

Jack looked at him baffled. "The loo?"

Doyle chuckled to himself. "Pardon me. I meant the bathroom."

"Yes."

Doyle silently held out his hand. Jack got to his feet and for the second time in less than twenty-four hours he took the proffered hand and off they went. Once he was back in his room and sitting on the floor, Jack wondered why the scary man was being so nice. He wasn't sure if he was more afraid of him this way or when he was mad.

* * *

><p>Two hours later Emily found herself in Arlington, gazing across the Potomac at the city she had city she had called home for the last five years. She wondered if she would be able to come back after this fiasco with Doyle was over especially after the way she had burned several bridges behind her from her abrupt exit from the BAU. She rubbed her forehead in an attempt to stave off the headache that was slowly building behind her eyes. Mentally she scolded herself for thinking about the future when she should be completely focused on the here and now.<p>

Straightening her back with resolve, Emily turned away from the beautiful view. Hitching the strap of the travel bag further up her shoulder, she made her way to the curb to hail a taxi. Snagging one on the first try Emily hopped in telling the cabbie to drive around. He eyed her for a moment then shrugged and pulled out into traffic. She sat back to watch the buildings roll by.

"What are you looking for?" the cabbie asked after driving around for fifteen minutes.

"A place to stay."

"I know of several nice hotels I can take you to," he offered, looking at her through the rear view mirror.

Emily met his look with one of her own, eyes dark and unwelcoming. "I'll know it when I see it," she said in a cold voice.

The man's eyes snapped back to the street and a couple more miles passed in silence except for the constant hum of the tires on the pavement.

"Pull over," Emily said suddenly.

"Here?" the cabbie questioned, glancing around nervously at the shabby neighborhood.

"Do you have a hearing problem? I said pull over. NOW!" Emily's eyes snapped in anger.

"Okay, okay," he grumbled as he brought the taxi to a stop. "It's your funeral, Lady."

Emily jumped out tossing to the man the fare and a generous tip. "Thanks but I already had mine. Heard it was quite moving." She slammed the door and watched the cab peel away with a squeal of rubber.

Turning around, she studied the nondescript motel. It wasn't the best she had ever seen nor was it the worst. It had just what she wanted, a place somewhat respectable but also one that didn't ask questions. Definitely not the kind of establishment her mother would be caught dead in. Emily smiled at the thought.

Entering the office, Emily paid for a room for three days with cash and under a fake name. Taking the key from the indifferent manager who waved vaguely in the general direction of her room, she headed off. Finding the room she unlocked the door, gave it a hard shove when it stuck and stepped back into the seventies.

"Lovely," she muttered as she dropped her bag on the gaudy bedspread and took in the yellow and orange textured walls, the brown shag-pile carpet and an honest to god red lava lamp. She peered closer and was surprised that it actually worked.

She shook her head in amusement. "Compared to this my apartment in Paris was a palatial palace."

Unpacking a set of fresh clothes, she headed for the bathroom. Twelve solid hour of travel had left her feeling itchy and disheveled and she couldn't wait to peel off her travel clothes and step in a nice hot bath. Stepping in, Emily turned on the shower and was rewarded with a steady stream of hot water though the pipes rattled ominously.

After washing herself from top to bottom, she leaned her forehead against the shower wall and let the water pound the tension from her shoulders and back. Even the headache receded, allowing her to let her mind drift. When the water started to grow tepid Emily reluctantly turned it off and stepped out.

Quickly she towel dried her raven hair and pulled it back into a neat ponytail. Then she pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a crisp though slightly wrinkled T-shirt. It still amazed her at times how the simple act of showering could refresh the mind and body. Before slipping her feet into a pair of comfortable tennis shoes, she dug around in the bag for the ace bandage she had purchased earlier. Carefully she wrapped her hand and felt the constant dull pain fade to a minor nuisance. She bent her fingers several times to make sure that she enough flexibility to hold a gun.

The thought of the gun brought her back to why she was here. Time to begin in earnest the hunt for Doyle. She knew that couldn't do it completely on her own. She needed help and the only people she could go to was her old team especially Morgan. Knowing him like she did, she had no doubt that he was on Doyle's trail the moment he had learned of her 'death'. Her gut told her that there was a tiny fragment of a clue in Morgan's file that would lead her to Doyle. It was time to call JJ who was probably beside herself with worry once she had realized Emily had pulled a runner.

Calling from the motel was out the question because it would reveal where she was holing up. Her safest bet was outside in a spot with a lot of people where she could blend in. She smiled to herself when it came to her. Pulling on her jacket and verifying she had plenty of money and her fake passport, she headed out. Along the way she stopped long enough to pick up two burner phones, sunglasses and a Washington Nationals ball cap. Pausing to look at her reflection in a storefront window, she was pleased with what she saw. Looking back at her was the face of a tourist. Perfect for where she was going. Arlington National Cemetery where you could talk freely without the concern that someone might ease drop. The only ones there who could listen in were the dead who weren't going to talk. They simply didn't care.

* * *

><p>Doyle sat cross-legged watching Jack dig into his second helping of cereal. Next to the boy sat the red panda and a pad of drawing paper with a jumbo box of crayons on it.<p>

"What's its name?" he asked, gesturing with his head at the stuffed animal.

"Doesn't have one yet," Jack answered around a mouthful of cereal.

"Why not?"

"He's not mine. He's a gift."

"Oh," Doyle raised an eyebrow. "Who is it for?"

"My friend Em'ly." Jack lifted the bowl to his mouth and slurped the leftover milk.

Doyle stiffened at the name but kept a warm smile on his face for the boy. "Ah. Is she in your class?"

"No," Jack answered, giving him the 'don't you know anything' look. "She works with my Daddy. She's a superhero like him too. She takes down bad guys and she's got a gun. I'm gonna give it to her when she gets back."

The warmth in his eyes faded as they narrowed in suspicion. "And where is this Emily now?"

Jack shrugged. "Don't know. Daddy just said she was on some special assignment somewhere. Em'ly been gone a long time." He picked up the red panda and ran his fingers through its fur.

"How long is long?"

Jack shrugged again. "A really long time." He buried his face in the fur. "I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. She just left."

"You miss her?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" Doyle asked, curious to know what this kid could possibly find so interesting in Emily Prentiss.

"Em'ly is really nice to me and she's always giving me books cause she knows I like to read. Oh," Jack's face lit up. "She tells me these funny stories with these silly voices she does."

"Makes you laugh?"

"Uh huh." Jack suddenly blushed. "She's pretty," he said shyly.

Doyle couldn't help but laugh at the boy. He had once thought that about her himself. That one fond memory brought to light her betrayal of their love and how she had tortured him with the 'death' of his son. He had a sudden urge to punish her but since she was dead he would have to settle for the boy.

"Your father lied to you."

"What?" Jack looked at him, confusion written all over his face.

"She's never coming back."

Jack's confusion turned to indignity. "Yes she is. Daddy told me so."

"He lied." Doyle smirked. 'Want to know how I know that?"

Jack nodded his head mutely.

Doyle leaned forward, eyes glittering with malice. "Because I killed her."

Jack jerked back as if had been slapped. "No," he whispered.

"Yes. I drove a wooden stake through her." Doyle made a stabbing motion at his stomach.

"You're lying."

Doyle shook his head. "No, I'm not. I made her pay dearly for taking my son away." He stood up and casually walked to the door. "You've been waiting five months for a dead woman."

Jack surged to his feet yelling, "You're lying! Em'ly's not dead! My Daddy never lies to me!"

Doyle tipped his head to one side smiling. "He did," he said and slipped through the door.

Jack stared at the door, hands clenched at his side, his entire body shaking in anger. "You're the one who's lying!" he shouted.

He stooped, picked up the cereal bowl and hurled it as hard as he could against the wall where it shattered.

"She can't be. When she comes back, we're gonna go to the zoo. You'll see." Tears came unbidden and slowly rolled down his cheeks.

"Em'ly's not dead!" he sobbed.

* * *

><p>"It's time to tell the team about Emily."<p>

"Are you sure?"

Hotch stood up and slipped on his suit jacket. "Positive. We need her help. Emily is the only person who has an intimate knowledge of Doyle."

JJ also rose to her feet. "If she'll share it with us. Both of us know that she is blaming herself for this. What's going to stop her from going after Doyle on her own?"

"Jack." Hotch said decisively. "The last time it was just between her and Doyle. She didn't have to look out for anyone but herself. Now she does. Emily is going to do everything within her power to keep Jack safe. We have to be there for her and help her with whatever she needs."

JJ nodded. "We're her backup whether she likes it or not." She jabbed a thumb at the door. "Derek and Penelope are in the conference room. I'll round up Dave and Spence and meet you there."

Morgan and Garcia looked up when a few minutes later Hotch walked through the doorway followed shortly by JJ, Rossi and Reid.

"We've made some progress in locating Declan," Morgan offered while the rest of the team, except for Hotch, settled into their chairs.

"We'll get to that later," Hotch said.

Morgan frowned. "But you said…"

"I said later," Hotch cut him off. "A situation has come up that we need to discuss."

"Something more important than Jack?" Morgan shot back slightly irritated.

"Morgan, hear him out," JJ said softly.

Garcia squinted through her glasses at JJ. "Does this have something to do with that name you gave me?"

"It does."

Hotch crossed his arms and took a deep breath before plunging in, "Five months ago, I made a decision that affected this entire team," he glanced around the room and saw that he had everyone's undivided attention, "As you all know, Agent Prentiss was pronounced dead from injuries received during her fight with Ian Doyle."

Hotch's eyes wandered over his team as they shifted uncomfortably at the change in topic. Emily's death was still a sensitive subject to talk about.

Once they had settled, Hotch took another deep breath and continued, "What you don't know is that the doctors were able to stop the bleeding and stabilize her during surgery, and she was eventually air lifted to Bethesda. She remained there with a protection detail until she was strong enough to travel. For he own safety, she was then relocated to Paris, where she's been living for the last three months."

The room fell eerily quiet. Morgan, Garcia and Reid sat stunned trying to grope with the sudden realization that their wish had after all come true. Emily, their friend, their teammate was alive. Rossi, on the other hand, was the only one who didn't seem to be all that surprised. Hotch made a mental note to ask him about that later.

Garcia was the first to break the silence. "She's alive?" she stammered, tears sliding down her cheeks. Hotch nodded.

Reid looked up at his Unit Chief in disbelief. "But we buried her," he said weakly.

Hotch continued. "As I said it was my decision and mine alone. Emily wasn't in any condition to make her opinion known. If you have any issues take them up with me. Do not blame Emily."

Morgan shot to his feet livid. "Issues?" he spat. "Hell I got issues. What is wrong with you, Man? How could you let us suffer like that while you knew she was alive? You should have told us."

Hotch shook his head and said calmly. "I couldn't take the risk. Emily's safety was my utmost priority."

"You still should have told us."

"The less people that knew the truth, the safer she would be," he countered.

"That's bullshit, Hotch, and you know it."

"Morgan, I know you're pissed but think about it this way. Could any of you have stayed away and pretended she was dead, knowing she was hurt and alone? You couldn't. You would have wanted to help and that would have led Doyle straight to her when Emily was at her most vulnerable."

Morgan stared at Hotch. He knew he was right but he couldn't vocally admit it yet. Instead he turned and went to look out the window, jaw clenched in anger.

Reid spoke up. "Hotch, how could you?"

Hotch turned to the young genius. "How could I do what?"

"How could you leave Emily all alone in the hospital like that? To let her wake up surrounded by complete strangers when she was probably scared, in a lot of pain and needed someone familiar to comfort her? I didn't know until now how you could be so heartless. She was your friend and you abandoned her."

Hotch opened his mouth to speak when JJ cut in. "It was like that at all, Spence."

"What do you mean?" he asked in suspicion.

"Emily wasn't alone," she confessed. "I was with her every day during her two month stay at Bethesda."

"You knew?" Reid's voice cracked with betrayal.

"Yes." She reached out to touch his hand but he pulled away. "I was long gone from the BAU when Doyle surfaced. I wasn't on his radar so I was able to freely come and go as needed. That's one of the reasons I distanced myself you guys after her 'death'." JJ didn't mention that the other reason was that she was tired of lying to everyone.

"You went every day?" Garcia asked. Morgan turned from the window to hear her answer.

"Every day. Emily was unconscious and in critical condition for two weeks. There were some days I was afraid she wouldn't make it through the night but she did. I was bound and determined that I would be the first face she saw when she woke up and I was."

Garcia smiled through her tears. "Our Emily is a fighter."

JJ smiled back. "She is. I told her that every day and she heard me."

Dave, who had been quietly observing, raised his hand. "I have a question. Why are you bringing this up now?"

Hotch and JJ looked at each other. "Emily is no longer in Paris," Hotch said. "She returned this morning."

"Ah." Was all Dave said.

Morgan stormed back to the table. "She's here? Where?"

JJ shook her head. "We don't know. Her last known location was in Richmond, Virginia around five this morning. By now she is probably here in D.C."

"That's it?" Morgan asked in disbelief.

"That's it," JJ said. "She hasn't contacted us yet."

"Do you know why she came back?" Dave asked.

"To find Jack," Hotch said. "Apparently she saw the Amber Alert online and called JJ."

"I told her not to worry, that Jack was simply lost which was what we were all thinking at the time," JJ shrugged. "But it looks like she did worry."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "And she immediately thought of Doyle which is understandable. She's probably been obsessing about Doyle constantly for the last five months. I would."

"So what do we do?" Reid asked.

"Nothing," Hotch answered.

"Nothing?" Morgan frowned. "You want us to sit around on our duffs and do nothing?" he asked in amazement.

Hotch spread his hands. "Emily could be anywhere. She's ex-CIA. She knows how to hide. Our hands are tied until she decides to contact us."

JJ's phone chose that very moment to ring and dance it's way across the table. Everyone looked at it.

"Speak of the devil," Dave said drolly. "Someone's ears must be burning."

* * *

><p><em>When I wrote the last line, I knew I just had to end it there. I love tiny cliffhangers. I also adore huge cliffhangers. Heck, I love to end on any size cliffhanger. <em>


	10. Chapter 10

_Boy the week sure flew by. Seemed like it was just yesterday that I posted. But it wasn't was it? So I shall shut up now and let you enjoy this one. Thanks to those who review. _

* * *

><p>Everyone's eyes were glued to JJ's phone as it skittered across the table. She scooped it up and glanced at the screen.<p>

"It's a unknown number," she said looking at Hotch.

"It could be Emily. Answer it."

JJ put the phone to her ear. "Jareau."

"_JJ."_

"Emily. Oh, thank god. You scared me to death when you took off like that." She gently scolded her friend.

"_I'm sorry. Truly I am. I had to come and help. I couldn't stand by and do nothing."_

"I understand."

"_Thanks. Is Hotch around?" _Emily asked.

"Umm…yeah," JJ hesitated, slightly thrown off by the abrupt change of subject. "He's right here. Let me put you on speakerphone."

Four pairs of eyes followed her as JJ pressed the button and set the phone on the table.

"I'm here." Hotch answered.

"_This is all my fault." _Emily's voice came over the speaker.

"No it isn't."

"_Yes, it is. My past has pulled Jack into this mess." _The team could hear the desolation in her voice and their hearts ached for her.

"The only person at fault is Doyle," Hotch said firmly. "He's the one who took Jack."

"_Because I took Declan."_

"That doesn't matter. He made the decision and acted on it. You didn't make it for him."

They heard Emily letting out a sigh of exasperation. _"We could go around and around on this for hours but we don't the have time for this. I need your help, Hotch."_

"Come in and I'll help you in any way I can." He watched everyone lean in, hoping that she would say yes.

"_You know I can't do that."_

Hotch let out a soft chuckle. "I had to try."

Emily snorted. _"I know."_

"What do you need?" he asked, knowing full well what she was after.

"_I need to see the file Morgan has on Doyle."_

"You've got it."

"_Thanks, Hotch. I'll contact you with where you can send it."_

"Emily?"

"_Yeah?"_

"Doyle gave us three days to turn over Declan. We now have less than sixty hours left."

"_Baiser enfer!" _Emily swore and hung up.

"What did that mean?" Reid asked.

Rossi raised an eyebrow. "You probably don't want to know."

* * *

><p>"Baiser enfer!" Emily swore and angrily snapped the phone closed. "Damn it!" she swore again and pushed the baseball hat back on her head to rub her forehead in vexation.<p>

Two and a half days, she thought in annoyance as Arlington House loomed over her shoulder from its perch on the hill. I have two and half days and probably not a minute longer knowing Doyle. Talk about pressure.

"Son of a bitch," Emily muttered under her breath and headed for the entrance, the white marble headstones bearing silence witness to her anger and frustration while in the distance the echo of Taps bid her a sad farewell.

* * *

><p>"Penelope?" Morgan asked. "Would you be able to pinpoint the location of the computer Emily uses to receive the file?"<p>

"Of course," she said cheerfully. "Down to what table and which room."

"Good. When you get the coordinates send them to me."

"Morgan, what are you planning?" Hotch asked.

"What do you think?" He glared at his boss. "I'm going to go get Emily and bring her home."

Rossi stood up and blocked the door. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said.

"What?" Morgan demanded. "Damn it, Rossi, she's my partner. I have to watch her back."

"I know that but right now Emily is our ace in the hole. Doyle doesn't know she's alive and we need to keep it that way. As long as we keep Doyle focused on us, Emily should be able to slip pass his defenses and rescue Jack."

Morgan crossed his arms in defiance. "I don't care. Emily died, shit, almost died because I didn't get there in time to protect her. I'm not going to let that happen again."

Rossi studied the younger man and watched the guilt flash across his face. Morgan didn't want to fail her again. He decided to change tack.

"Ok," he said placidly. "So you go and get her. What are you going to do? Handcuff Emily to her desk?"

"She probably knows how to pick the lock," Reid said to no one in particular. "Ow!" He reached down and rubbed his knee, glaring at Garcia who had just kicked him under the table.

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe," Morgan said through clenched teeth.

Rossi stepped closer. "Even if it costs you your friendship? You do this and Emily will resent you for the rest of her life. Whatever trust you have left between you two will be hopelessly shattered beyond repair. The only thing you will accomplish is reinforcing her long held belief that the only person she can trust is herself. Emily will run and we all will have lost her for good this time. No second chances. Do you want that?" Rossi gazed at him.

Morgan stared at a spot on the wall over the older man's shoulder. He sighed deeply. "No."

"Good." Rossi gave him a reassuring smile. "She knows what she is doing. The CIA has trained her well. Emily is going into this with her eyes wide open and she knows that she is not alone, that we have her back."

"I know," Morgan muttered. "It's just so hard to do nothing."

"It's hard for all of us. Trust her."

* * *

><p>Emily set up camp at a table in a secluded corner of the public library. The last couple of hours had been hectic as she raced all over Arlington. First she had to retrieve the package that contained her laptop from the local Fed-Ex store that she had it shipped to. Next she had annoyed another taxi driver by having him drive around until she had spotted a small Internet Café. Inside, speaking in broken French and waving around her passport, she had secured a computer. Once she had taken her seat before it, she had created a new email address and then texted it to JJ's phone. Several minutes later the file arrived in her mailbox, which she had in turn forwarded it to her laptop. Emily then had retreated to the library.<p>

Plugging in the laptop, she flipped it open and pulled up the email and its attachment. Emily quietly whistled at the size of the file. Morgan with Penelope's help had amassed quite a dossier on Doyle. It contained everything from his arm dealing contracts to his known associates from his I.R.A. days. Surprisingly listed under his aliases was Chuck Murray, which he had borrowed from his dog. She had thought that she was the only person who had known it. Guess she wasn't if Garcia had been able to dig it up. Somewhere hidden in this mass of information was a hint that would lead her to Doyle. Emily dug in.

After three hours of reading, sorting, shifting and analyzing, all that Emily had to show for her efforts was an aching back and eyestrain from squinting at the screen. Running a hand over her weary eyes she idly wondered how Penelope could do it for hours on end, day after day, week after week. Pushing the laptop to one side, Emily rested her head on her crossed arms. Closing her eyes, she let her mind drift.

* * *

><p>When JJ's phone buzzed several hours later, Garcia looked over at Morgan. "Do you still want me to run the trace?"<p>

Morgan shook his head. "Send her the file."

"Okey dokey." She typed in the email address Emily had given JJ and sent the file on its way. "Hope it is more useful to Emily than it was for us."

"We can only hope so," Hotch said. "Now where were we?"

In the hours between Emily's first and second phone calls, Morgan had brought the rest of the team up to speed on the search for Declan. Currently they were waiting for Anderson to resurface with the evidence from the Ben Correlli case.

"Where the heck can he be?" Penelope fumed, drumming her muli-colored nails on the tabletop. "If he thought the last chewing out was bad he is in for a very nasty surprise." Everyone in the room suddenly felt bad for the man.

The condemned agent rushed into the conference room. "Sorry I took so long. It was misfiled but I finally found it." He handed the large manila envelope to Garcia.

"Thanks." She mad a shooing motion with her hand. "You may go now."

"Call if you need anything else, Miss Garcia," Anderson said and departed as quickly as he had entered.

Garcia upended the envelope, spilling its contents all over the conference table.

"There must be close to two hundred fake Ids here," Reid observed as he divided the pile among his teammates.

She flipped over the envelope. "One hundred ninety-two to be precise."

"And it looks like over half of them are for children," JJ commented as she glanced through hers.

"What physical features are we looking for?" Hotch asked.

"Blonde hair and blue eyes."

"Emily could have changed his hair color," Rossi pointed out.

"True." She held up a picture and tapped it with one finger. "But you can't hide those eyes of his. They're sky blue."

Silence descended as they each shifted through their individual piles. "I think I found him." Morgan pulled out an Id and handed it to Penelope who compared the two pictures.

"You got him," she said pleased. "It says his name is Matthew Thatcher."

"Then his mother should have the same last name," Rossi said and everyone returned to his or her search with renewed energy.

A few minutes later Reid exclaimed. "Got her. Louise Thatcher." He passed it to Garcia.

Penelope pulled over her laptop. "Now all I have to do is enter this information and I will have their exact location in two shakes of a cute and cuddly lamb's tail." Her fingers flew over the keyboard. "Lets see. Looks like Emily had settled them on a quiet cul-de-sac in Reston, Virginia."

"That's where Emily was living when she first returned to D.C.," Morgan observed.

"Hmmm…this is interesting."

"What is it?" he asked.

"A man by the name of Tom Kohler also resides at the same address."

"Who's he?" Hotch inquired with a slight frown.

"I let you know in a sec." Garcia looked up, eyes wide in surprise. "He's one of us. A Fed."

JJ looked around the table. "He must be an old friend of Emily's. She never mentioned him."

"There's a lot we don't know about her," Reid said quietly.

Hotch glanced at him in concern but said nothing knowing Reid was still reeling from Emily's sudden resurrection. "Where is Agent Kohler now?" he asked instead.

"He's currently on assignment."

"Get me his number," Hotch said, standing up.

Rossi raised an eyebrow. "What are you going to do?"

"Call him and get him back here to protect Declan. We can't go to where Declan is because Doyle will then know that we found him." Hotch headed for his office.

"Well that explains that," Garcia absently commented, eyes once again glued to her monitor.

The rest of the team turned to her. "Explain what?" Morgan asked her.

"Why Declan is staying at a boarding school. Seems that place has great security so this Tom fellow knows he safe when he is gone." Garcia typed away. "Awww…seems our blue-eyed boy is a smart one."

"How smart?" Reid asked his curiosity piqued.

Garcia smiled. "Not as smart as our boy genius here but more well rounded. He has brains and is an athlete to boot. Looks like he's living the life Emily wanted, no wants him to have."

* * *

><p>"<em>Morning, Luv," the voice whispered in Emily's ear. She felt her hair being brushed off her neck to be replaced by a gentle kiss.<em>

_She smiled at the caress. Turning she reached up, grabbed Ian by the front of his shirt and gently reeled him in to kiss him lightly on the lips._

"_Morning," she said sweetly, gazing into his blue eyes and kissing him again only this time longer._

_Ian broke off the kiss with a laugh. He ran his fingers lightly along her shoulder before sitting down at the table and pouring a glass of orange juice. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, gazing fondly at her over the top of his glass._

"_So so." She gave him a sideward glance as she curled one corner of her mouth into a smile. "Someone kept waking me up all night," she said coyly._

_Ian cocked his head to one side, eyes dancing in amusement. "Lauren, I told you it was a bad idea to let the dog sleep with us."_

_Emily threw her head back in laughter. "He was a perfect gentleman. It was the other occupant in the bed I had trouble with."_

"_I'll be more gentlemanly next time," he teased._

_She laughed again, deep and throaty. "You do that. Beautiful day isn't it?" she asked letting her eyes wander over the manicured grounds from their place on the terrace. In the distance she could see Declan playing with the before mentioned dog. The boy, sensing that he was being watched, turned and waved. Emily smiled and waved back._

"_Everything is beautiful today," he said, watching her watching his son._

_She turned her dazzling smile on him and he felt himself falling further in love with her._

_Emily picked up a piece of bacon to nibble on. "It's sweet that you let Louise's son play anywhere he wants. Some employers aren't so lenient with the help."_

_Ian turned to watch Declan making his way to them having been abandoned by the dog who was now off chasing a rabbit. "His laughter fills the villa with his joy. Nothing makes a home more welcoming than the sound of a child's happiness."_

_Declan scrambled up the steps and came to a sliding stop. Suddenly shy, he looked down, clasped his hands behind his back and toed one of the tiles. "Miss 'Auren? Would you push me on the swing?"_

_Emily looked at Ian, one eyebrow raised in question. "Do you mind?"_

"_Not at all. I have some business I need to tend to."_

"_I would love to," she said grinning at the boy who looked up and returned her grin with an even bigger one._

"_C'mon, Miss 'Auren." Declan grabbed her by the hand and Emily let him tug her to her feet. "This way," he said and she allowed herself to be led to a century old oak tree where a wooden swing swayed gently in the morning breeze._

"_Up you go." Emily picked up the little boy and deposited him on the swing. She made sure they were facing the terrace so she could keep an eye on the meeting._

"_Ready?" The boy nodded, furiously pumping his legs to get the swing moving._

_As she pushed, Emily watched Louise come out to clear the remains of breakfast from the table. Doyle had a few words with her. She nodded and went back inside. A few minutes later a tall, broad man with salt and pepper hair stepped onto the terrace. Doyle rose smiling and the men embraced, slapping each other on the back._

_Emily frowned, not recognizing the man. They appear to be old friends, she mused. _

"_Higher!" Declan shouted out in glee._

"_Huh? Oh, sure." Emily pushed harder and Declan squealed in delight. She turned her attention back to the meeting._

_Doyle gestured to the empty chair. As both men sat Louise reappeared with a carafe of coffee. Doyle thanked her and then offered the man a cup. He refused. Meanwhile Louise moved up to the railing and looked out over the yard, shading her eyes with a hand._

_Emily stopped pushing the swing. "Declan, I think your mother is looking for you."_

"_Rats," the little boy said and jumped nimbly off when the swing slowed. "Thanks, Miss 'Auren."_

"_I had fun." Emily smiled and ruffled his hair fondly. "Now scoot." Declan waved then ran off to his mother._

_Emily settled onto the swing and watched the boy launch himself into Louise's arms. Hugging him tightly she went back in. Laughter pulled her attention back to terrace. Both men now were leaning back in their chairs, relaxed and smoking. They must be exchanging stories, she concluded, using one foot to push herself back and forth. A few minutes later both men stood and shook hands. The stranger headed for the door while Doyle made his way to her side._

"_That was quick," she observed after Ian kissed her._

"_Just a visit from an old friend." He moved behind her and gave her a gentle push. Emily wanted to know his name but she didn't want to push it and make him suspicious._

_Casually she said, "Talking about old times? No, don't tell me. Let's see. Redhead lasses, pub hopping and way too many pints of ale?"_

_Ian chuckled. "Dermot O'Bannion could never hold his liquor or resist his fondness for redheads." Aha, Emily silently cheered. A name. "Which clashes with what he wants to do."_

"_Which is?"_

_Ian gave her his patented half smile. "He's planning on retiring and opening his own pub."_

"_Really. Where?"_

"_This is the funny part. He wants to move to America and open it in Washington D.C.. Right smack in the middle of all those feds."_

_Emily cocked an eyebrow. "That's bold."_

_Ian shrugged. "It is but that is what he wants to do. He even has a name picked out."_

"_What is it?"_

"_He's going to call it…"_

Emily's head snapped up from the library table. "The Unicorn," she whispered.

* * *

><p><em>Ah ha. Could it be possible that Emily has an inkling to where Doyle is hiding? Check in next week and find out. <em>


	11. Chapter 11

_Hi everyone. Hope everyone had a nice week. Thanks to all who continue to review. So apprieciated. Now I will be quiet and let you read. Enjoy._

* * *

><p>"The Unicorn," Emily whispered.<p>

Reinvigorated, Emily grabbed the laptop and scrolled through Doyle's file until she found the list of his known associates. There listed under IRA members was one Dermot O'Bannion, deceased. Pleased that she hadn't imagined the man, Emily googled the name and the Unicorn and got quite a few hits. Adding Washington D.C. to the mix she was able to narrow it down to two. One was the official website for the pub and the other an obituary.

Intrigued, she clicked on the obituary and learned that Dermot O'Bannion had died five months ago. Coincidence? She thought not. O'Bannion was probably one of the men the SWAT team had taken out at the warehouse that night. She turned her attention to the Unicorn and found that it was still open under the management of his son, Seamus.

Taking note of the pub's location, Emily shut down the laptop. Now she had a legitimate lead. She would start her search for Doyle at the Unicorn and fan out from there. Someone had had to seen him. One thing Emily knew for certain about Doyle was his love for pubs. But first, before she ventured into possibly dangerous territory, she needed a gun.

* * *

><p>Emily slowly made her way through Washington D.C.'s red light district. Though it was the middle of the day, there were quite a few streetwalkers out plying their trade. She wasn't here to pick up a date but to score some information. If you approached a hooker in a certain way you could learn quite a bit, like for example, where you could pick up a gun, no questions asked.<p>

Emily spotted a possible source. Up ahead leaning against the side of a building was an African American hooker. She was smoking a cigarette and judging from the amount of heavy makeup, she was trying to conceal a black eye that she had probably gotten from her pimp. As she casually walked by the escort, Emily pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Slipping one out she patted her pockets for the lighter.

"Damn," she swore right in front of the woman who glanced at her.

"Something wrong, Sweet Cheeks?"

"Yeah. Lost my lighter. You got a light for a cigarette?" Emily asked hopefully.

"Sure." The escort rummaged through her purse and pulled out a cheap Bic. "Here." She handed it to Emily.

"Thanks." Transferring it to her injured hand, she struggled to flick on the flame. This part was not an act. The bulky bandage made it difficult to wrap her fingers around small objects.

After watching several attempts fail, she plucked the lighter from Emily's hand. "Let me." She flicked it on and lit the cigarette.

Emily took a long drag and exhaled the smoke slowly. "Thanks again. I really needed this. My nerves are on edge."

"No problem." She eyed the injured hand just like Emily hoped she would. "What happened to your hand?"

Emily held it up. "My crazy boyfriend accused me of stealing money from his sock drawer so he slammed my hand in it. Teaching me a lesson he said," she snorted.

"Did you?"

"Hell, no," she said indignantly. "He's always yelling and accusing me of stuff I didn't do. When I try to tell him I didn't he hits me. Usually he hits me where it doesn't show but this time he was really pissed."

She nodded. "I can relate. Did you try to leave his sorry ass?"

Emily grimaced. "Several times but he always finds me and beats me so bad I can't walk for a week. I don't know what to do. I'm afraid that one day he'll go too far and kill me."

"Sweet Cheeks," the woman said, laying a hand on Emily's shoulder. "You need some protection."

"Protection?"

"Yeah. A piece. A gun."

"Oh." Emily let her eyes grow wide. "I wouldn't even know where to get one. Do you?"

The hooker took several drags on her cigarette as she thought it over. "I do." She pointed in the opposite direction that Emily had come from. "Go down four blocks then turn right on Claque. Continue on for another two blocks and you'll see Sid's Pawn and Go on the left side of the street. You can't miss it."

She pulled a card out of her purse and handed it to Emily. "Ask for Bud and give him this. Tell him Breauna sent you. He'll take real good care of you."

Emily smiled. "Thanks. I really appreciate this."

Breauna grinned wickedly. "When you get the gun make sure you aim for his little ones. He will then be singing to a different tune."

* * *

><p>The escort's directions were right on the mark. Emily stood across the street studying Sid's Pawn and Go. It was a typical pawnshop, located on the bottom floor of a building that looked like it was ready to buckle under from its own weight. The storefront was dirty and in desperate need of a coat of paint. A heavy grate of metal bars protected the window, which looked like it hadn't been washed in twenty years.<p>

Taking a calming breath, Emily assumed her battered woman persona, scurried across the street and hesitantly entered the pawnshop. She glanced around cautiously as she made her way to over to the counter where a heavyset man with a crew cut and chewing on toothpick leaned.

"Help you?"

"Are you Bud?'

He nodded.

"A mutual friend of ours said I might be able to get a piece here." She pulled out the card and set it on the counter. "Breauna sent me."

The man stared at her for a moment, turning the toothpick in his mouth, contemplating whether or not to trust her. Slowly he looked away and let his eyes sweep across the room to make sure the store was as empty as it appeared to be. Satisfied that no one would overhear them, he pushed away from the counter he leaned against and slid open the glass door. He retrieved a compact pistol and set it on top of the counter.

"Glock 26," he spoke around the toothpick, "big enough caliber to do its job, but small enough to keep hidden."

Emily eyed the pistol and nodded without moving to touch it. She knew the exact specs of the weapon, but maintained the notion of naivety. Bud shook his head at her uncertainty and wrapped his large hand around its small frame, turning it over for her to see. He ejected the empty magazine, showed it to her and ran it back into place.

"Bullets go in there," he instructed, "pull the slide back to load it, line up the front dot between the rear dots and pull the trigger. Simple as that."

He set the gun in her hand and she fought the urge to smile at the familiar weight in her palm. She held it awkwardly, pointing it toward the floor and put on a show of trying to line up the sights. Bud laughed and she set the gun back on the counter.

"Doesn't have a safety on it, so careful not to shoot yourself," he rasped.

"How much?" she mirrored his earlier action in looking over the room for secrecy.

"I hate to see a woman such as yourself in a world of hurt," he pulled the wet toothpick from his lips, "and since you're a friend of Breauna, six hundred and I'll throw in a box."

He pulled a box of nine-millimeter bullets from under the counter and set them next to the gun. Emily frowned down at the hardware and back up to Bud.

"Six hundred seems a little steep."

"No serial numbers, and can't be traced back should things go south," he stuck the pick back between his teeth and eyed her, "that's what I got, take it or leave it."

Emily thought for a moment and turned away from him to conceal the wad of cash she pulled from the jacket pocket. She quickly stripped the bills from the stack and tucked the rest deeply into her pocket and turned back to him.

"I'll take it," she set the cash on the counter.

He smiled and slid the gun and ammo across the counter to her, "Pleasure doing business with you."

Emily nodded, tucked the gun and ammo in her jacket pocket and left. Outside on the curve she smiled and wrapped her fingers around the butt of the gun. For the last couple of days she felt that she missing a vital piece of her but not now. She was complete. It was time to go hunting.

* * *

><p>Finding the Unicorn was a heck of a lot easier than finding the gun. Emily briefly entertained the thought of going inside and asking around but she just as quickly nixed the idea. With her luck Doyle would be inside waiting or someone would blab that a woman was looking for him. Better to restrict her inquiries to the local transients hanging around. People preferred to view the homeless as invisible not realizing how observant they actually are. A little cash passed their way can often loosen a lot of tongues.<p>

Emily decided to start in the immediate area around the pub and was rewarded with several positive hits on the photo of Doyle. She was elated that her hunch had panned out but also disappointed that no knew which direction he had come from. The only thing they agreed on was that he hadn't come by car. That meant he was within walking distance of the pub or he had parked on some side street. Randomly choosing a direction, Emily slowly made her way down the street talking to every homeless person she came across. After five blocks the trail went cold so she retraced her steps to the Unicorn and started in the other direction.

After many futile hours of searching Emily was ready to call it a night. Darkness had fallen and she was no closer in locating Doyle than when she had started. Emily was bone tired. Her back, knees and feet ached from all the walking she had done today. Her head pounded and her stomach growled from the lack of food. With a sigh of defeat, Emily reluctantly decided to head back to the motel and get some sleep. Tomorrow she would return and start again.

With heavy feet, she headed for the nearest subway station. As she trudged along, she spotted a homeless woman hunkered down outside an all night convenient store.

"Excuse me," Emily said as she walked up to her. The woman eyed her warily while pulling her shopping cart closer. Emily held out the picture. "I was wondering if you have seen this man around lately?"

The woman squinted. "Maybe I have. Maybe I haven't."

Emily smiled. "Will this help?" She slid two twenties over the photo.

The money was snatched up and disappeared inside the oversize coat. "I have."

"Where at?"

The woman scrunched up her face in deep concentration. "I can't rightly remember. Mind is a little fuzzy." Emily pulled out another twenty.

"Now I remember," she said brightly, giving Emily a toothless grin. She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Right there this morning."

"This morning?" Emily repeated, making sure she had heard the homeless woman correctly.

"Yup. I was picking up my morning energy drink." She patted the paper bag next to her that Emily knew contained booze. "He was buying a box of cereal, some crayons and a pad of paper."

Emily blinked in surprise at the odd shopping list. "Did you see where he went?"

"Well," the woman hedged. Another twenty magically appeared. "Right over there." She pointed across the street.

Emily turned. Directly across from her was an entrance to what appeared to be a large abandoned industrial park.

"Thank you for your help," Emily said and gave her another twenty. The woman took it and saluted.

Emily crossed the street and cautiously made her way up the drive. Pausing just inside of the entrance, she peered into the darkness. She could just barely make out the shapes of the nearest buildings. She had no idea how large the park was and trying to search it at night with without a light was ill advised and dangerous. Who knew how many hidden hazards lurked out there in the dark. Better to wait until morning but that didn't mean she was leaving. He was finally within her grasp. No way was she going to let Doyle slip through her fingers while she slept at the motel.

She was staying put even if it meant she had to sit outside all night. Maybe she would be lucky to find some form of shelter that would protect from her from the elements. Emily poked around until she found a spot that offered an unobstructed view of the industrial park's entrance. Tucking herself in an alcove, she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and waited for the sunrise.

Morning found Emily sitting in the same position, eyes still intently focused on the entrance. Nothing had passed by all night. Not a feral cat, a stray dog or a rat. The industrial park seemed to be devoid of all life. Emily remained hidden for another hour on the off chance that Doyle might surface with the sun. He was a no show.

"Time to get moving," she told herself and attempted to stand.

Her entire body protested. Her back refused to straighten and when she tried to stretch out her legs they cramped up. Grimacing against the pain she spent the next couple of minutes massaging her legs to restore circulation. Once the feeling in her legs returned she tried again to stand. Finding no handholds above her to help pull herself up, Emily had to settle with planting her left hand on the ground and pushing up. She clumsily made it to her feet, the twisting motion pulling on the almost healed stab wound.

"I'm getting too old for all night stakeouts," she muttered gently rubbing the still tender scar.

Her first few steps were wobbly but by the time she reached the other side of the street her gait had smoothed out as the tight muscles loosen. At the entrance she stood and took stock of the situation. In the daylight the abandoned industrial park was much larger than she had imagined.

"There must be at least twenty buildings." She gazed around forlornly. "It would take over a day to completely search every one and I don't have that much time to waste. I'll have to find a faster way."

In the end Emily settle on a quick reconnoiter. She would check the perimeters of each building for any signs of forced entry or human inhabitation. Unfortunately she found evidence of both around the majority of the buildings leading her to believe this site was the primary residence of the local transient population. This fact would have made this place more appealing to Doyle.

Turning the corner of building fourteen, Emily stumbled upon a dark blue ten year old Honda Accord hidden behind a line of overflowing dumpsters. Pulling out the Glock she quietly crept up on the car keeping to its' blind spots. Keeping low, she pushed down on the trunk to make sure it was latched and then moved up to peek into the back and front of the car. Finding it empty she placed a hand on the hood. Cold so it hadn't been driven in the last couple of hours and judging from the thin coat of dirt covering it the car hadn't been parked here longer than a day or two.

Keeping a firm grip on the gun, she bent to study the ground beneath the driver side door. Emily was hoping to find a set of footprints that would indicate which direction the owner of the car had headed and ultimately the building he had entered. Years of neglect had left detritus scattered over every surface. Broken glass, leaves, trash and pieces of concrete made it impossible to find the trail. Frustrated she leaned against the car to think.

Doyle had to be in one of three buildings facing this spot. She was confident he was but which one? Of course she could explore each one but that was an iffy proposition. She didn't have any backup and no idea how many men Doyle might have with him. Though this time she had a nagging suspicion it wouldn't be as many as before, one maybe two or three at the most. She just couldn't take the risk of being wrong. Instead of her going in, she needed Doyle to come out. What she needed, Emily decided, was a diversion.

* * *

><p>Hotch sat at his desk gazing at the photo in his hand. Jack grinned back at him proudly decked out in his red soccer uniform, one foot propped on the ball..<p>

"Please tell me you didn't spend the whole night here?"

He pivoted in his chair to find Rossi leaning against the doorjamb. Last night, overriding everyone's protests, Hotch had sent the team home to get some legitimate sleep. He had pointed out that they had been here over twenty-four hours and Strauss would grow suspicious if they remained much longer. Grudgingly they agreed, scooped up their go bags and headed home.

"I didn't. But I couldn't go home to an empty apartment."

Rossi moved to one of the visitor chairs. "So where did you go?"

"To Jessica's. In all the confusion, from Jack's kidnapping to Emily's sudden reappearance, I had completely forgotten about her." Hotch admitted.

"And how did she like being left out of the loop?"

Hotch rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. "Not well. She reamed me up one side and down the other, which I deserved. She then burst into tears. We spent the next several hours sitting quietly on the couch before she said she was going to go lie down. Before she left she threatened to hang me from the nearest tree if I didn't keep her informed."

Rossi smiled. "You believe her?"

"Absolutely. One thing she and Haley had in common was their quick temper. I've been scorched many a time. After I left, I walked around for a bit to clear my head and then came back here."

"Did you get any sleep?"

"A little. I'll be able to sleep once I know that Jack is safe and in his own bed."

"No argument from me." Rossi pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going to get myself some coffee. Want a cup?"

Before he could answer, the phone rang. He nodded as he picked up the receiver. "Hotchner."

"_I think I know where Doyle is hiding."_

Hotch made a waving motion at Dave drawing him back into the office. "Emily?" he whispered.

Hotch nodded and hit the speaker button. "Prentiss, where are you?"

Both men heard her hesitate. There was a small sigh. _"I'm at the North Ridge Industrial Park and before you volunteer to send in the troops I said I think I know. I'm not positive. I haven't seen him."_

"I can still send in the SWAT team and they can search the buildings," he offered.

"_It's an awfully big park. All those people swarming around would tip him off. We can't afford that."_

Hotch and Dave looked at each other. "What do you suggest?"

"_I have it narrowed down to three buildings, numbers 12,14 and 16. What I need is a diversion to draw him out. Doyle has to have someone watching you guys."_

"We have already come to that conclusion."

Emily paused, thinking furiously. _"If the team were to rush out…"_

"The flunkie would call Doyle and he would come out to see what the team is up to." Hotch finished for her.

"_Exactly."_

"Prentiss, how much time do you need?"

"_Give me a half hour to find a spot to watch from before you send the team out."_

"Okay."

"_Hotch, I'll call you the moment I see any activity."_ Emily hesitated again. _"If you don't hear from me in an hour, send in the cavalry. I'm probably in deep shit."_

"So we are the decoy?" Dave asked after Emily had hung up.

"It would appear so."

"How should we handle it?"

"We'll keep it simple. JJ and I will remain here. You take Morgan and Reid and make the biggest scene you can. That should attract the attention of Doyle's man."

"Got it," Rossi said. "Anywhere in particular?"

Hotch shrugged. "Anywhere in the opposite direction of Declan. Just lead them on a long wild goose chase."

"I'm on it." Dave moved to the bullpen railing. "Morgan, Reid. We're going on a little field trip."

"Sweet!" Reid's eyes lit up in delight. "Where to?"

"Chillum, Maryland," Rossi answered.

Morgan frowned. "What's in Chillum?"

Dave smiled. "I haven't the foggiest idea. But we'll soon find out."

* * *

><p>"If you don't hear from me in an hour, send in the cavalry. I'm probably in deep shit," Emily said and flipped the phone shut.<p>

Immediately she started to search for a place to hide. Sweeping her gaze over the area her eyes settled on the fire escape for building nine. The northeast corner of the building offered an unimpeded view of the entrances of the three buildings she had targeted. Perfect.

Trotting over Emily looked up at the ladder and then down at the ground hoping to find some tool she could use to pull it down. She found nothing of help. Eyeballing the distance between her outstretched hand and the lower rung, she concluded she could make the jump.

"This is going to hurt," she muttered, knowing the scar tissue was not going to like the stretching motion.

Bending her knees, Emily took a deep breath, swung her arms upward, and leaped as high as she could. Her left hand hit the rung and she grabbed it, letting her weight pull the ladder down. As predicted the scar protested the movement and complained for the entire trip up the fire escape. Breathing heavy from the exertion, Emily settled into the northeast corner of the roof using the waist high ledge for concealment. From her perch she could easily see each door and from the ground she was invisible. Emily placed the gun and phone on the ledge and checked her watch. The team should be starting the diversion about now. She stared intently at the doors.

Ten minutes later the door to building twelve swung silently open and Doyle stepped out into the sunlight. Emily wrapped her hands around the gun. Cell phone glued to his ear he made a beeline for the car. Emily's eyes followed his every move. She hadn't been sure what she would feel when she saw Doyle again but now she knew. It was pure loathing. Hatred for the pain he was causing Jack and Hotch. Hatred for the scared woman he had turned her into after the fight and hatred for taking her life away.

It would be so easy to end it here. One well-placed bullet was all that was needed. There would then be no need to send in the SWAT team. The courts wouldn't be bogged down with a trial and years of appeals. One pull of the trigger and it would be all over. She would be able to live again. No more hiding, no more constantly looking over her shoulder. Sleep would be a welcome visitor and the nightmares banished. It was now or nothing. Emily raised the gun, took aim and squeezed the trigger.

* * *

><p><em>I just love cliffhangers, don't you? :) Don't forget to test out the nice blue, shiny review button. <em>


	12. Chapter 12

_I know, I know. You been waiting impatiently to find out if Emily did or did not do it. That is the question of the day. You got a fifty/fifty chance of getting it right. Well, I shalt make you hang any longer. Enjoy._

* * *

><p>Emily squeezed the trigger and stopped. Reluctantly she lowered the weapon. As much as she despised the man, she couldn't cut him down in cold blood. She wasn't a killer. Silently she watched Doyle hop into the car and drive away oblivious to how close he had come to having his brains splattered across the pavement. She waited for several minutes to make sure he hadn't doubled back before picking up the phone to call Hotch.<p>

Flipping the phone open, Emily hit redial and got nothing. Frowning she looked at the display and was shocked to see the battery icon flashing. As she watched, the image faded and the phone died.

"Shit." Sitting all night outside in cold must have seriously drained the battery but had left enough juice to make one phone call. Disgusted she shoved the dead phone into her jacket pocket.

Indecisiveness tore at her and Emily started to pace. Should she go off in search of a phone or go in? If she went after another phone, how much valuable time would she lose? Too much, she decided. Every minute she was gone, the odds that Doyle would return increased. Reid would have known the exact figure but he wasn't here to ask. This was one of the times she truly missed his random ramblings. Emily had no choice. She had to go in and take the risk that Doyle had left the place unguarded.

The thought of Jack all alone in the building sent Emily scrambling down the fire escape. Darting across the open space, she flattened her back against the wall next to the entrance. Cautiously she tested the door. It was unlocked. Gently turning the knob she eased it open and slipped in. Standing just inside Emily paused to let her eyes adjust to the dim light.

Stepping forward Emily found herself in a cavernous room filled with abandoned manufacturing equipment. Upon closer inspection she discovered that it use to be a faucet factory. This room was too big to corral an active six-year-old boy. Jack had to be in one of the offices or a storage room. With great care Emily moved among the equipment, gun gripped comfortably in her hands, making her way toward the offices on the far side of the building. Quickly she cleared the two glass enclosed rooms and the one storage area. Standing next to one of the offices she looked the place over for a second time and realized that she hadn't seen a break room. There must be a basement.

A quick search uncovered the basement entrance tucked behind the storage room. Its door was ajar. Emily put her ear to the crack hearing nothing but the silence of a dying building. With the toe of her shoe Emily nudged the crack wider and ducked through. Pausing at the top she took a calming breath and crept down the metal staircase as quietly as she could. At the bottom, gun clutched tightly to her chest, Emily crouched down and peeked around the corner. Finding the basement area empty she released the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding on the way down.

Standing up she took in the room. The wall directly across from her was made of cinder block with no openings except for several high casement windows. To her right was another bare wall and between her and it was a small alcove lined with storage shelves. The space to her left held more promise. There were several doors along the wall but it was the door at the very end that captured her attention. It was sporting a shiny brand new dead bolt. Slowly moving along the wall Emily checked the two doors. One was a closet and the other revealed a bathroom. Stopping in front of the object of her attention, she studied the door from top to bottom looking for any alarms or tripwires. Finding nothing Emily looked at the lock and discovered in was a simple one. All she had to do was to slide the bolt. With her left hand she noiselessly slid the bolt back and moved her hand down to the knob. With a deft twist she threw open the door and burst in with gun drawn and ready.

* * *

><p>"Em'ly!"<p>

Emily was caught totally unprepared for the Jack size missile that struck her solidly in the chest.

"Oomph!" she grunted, stumbling backward from the impact. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around the boy as she sat down hard.

Jack tightened his grip around her neck. "Em'ly I knew you weren't dead he told me you were but I didn't believe him I knew he was lying and I told him so the scary man said Daddy lied to me and that he had killed you you came back I said you would I really missed you…" he babbled, words spilling out a mile a minute.

Emily set the gun on the floor and pried Jack's death grip from around her neck. She held him at arms length smiling.

"Whoa, slow down, Jack sweetie. I don't understand a word you are saying."

Jack took a deep breath and started over slower this time.

"I knew you weren't dead. The scary man said you were."

"Mr. Doyle told you that?"

Jack nodded vigorously. "Yeah. I said he was lying and then he said he had killed you. He said he had poked you with a stick." He pointed down at her stomach.

Emily felt her temper flare. How dare he torment an innocent child like that. She instantly regretted not putting a bullet between his eyes earlier.

"Did he?" Jack asked cocking his head to one side.

"Huh?" Emily snapped back to the present and Jack.

"Did he poke you with a stick?"

Emily smiled at Jack's simplified version of a stabbing. "He did," she answered him truthfully. "I was sick for a while but I'm all better now."

"Do you have a scar like Daddy's?" Jack's six-year-old curiosity kicked in.

"I do."

"Canna I see it?"

"Pardon?" Emily blinked in surprise.

"Canna I see your scar?" Jack asked patiently.

"Umm…sure," she said hesitantly. Emily reached down and pulled up the left side of her tee shirt exposing the now red and angry scar.

Jack reached over and ran his fingers gently over the puckered skin. "Cool!" he said in awe.

Emily laughed. Only a little boy would find the scar, an ugly reminder to her of a brief lapse in attention, absolutely fascinating. She had a nagging suspicion that when Jack returned to school her scar would be the talk of the playground.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," she lied. Over the last couple of days she had put her body through the wringer and now she was feeling the after effects especially around the half healed stab wound. A dull ache emanated from the scar that was being matched beat for beat by the dull ache in her hand. A long, hot soak in the tub was in her near future.

Emily retrieved the Glock and slowly climbed to her feet. Jack watched his eyes glued to the gun in her hand. "What did you do to your hand?"

She grinned sheepishly. "I did something dumb. I got angry and punched a door."

Jack mulled that over. "That was dumb."

"Thanks," Emily said with a light laugh. She ruffled his hair fondly. "You ready to go home man of a thousand questions?"

"Yes." He looked up at her hopefully. "Can you carry me?"

"Oh, Sweetie, you're too big for me to carry and I'm going need both of my hands," she said watching his face fall in disappointment. She hated to say no even though she knew Jack simply wanted to feel safe in her arms.

"Tell you what. Why don't you stand directly behind me." She maneuvered Jack into position and placed one of his hands on her belt. "I need you to hold on to me right here. You're going to be my backup."

Jack scrunched up his face. "Backup?"

"Yes, my backup. That means you are watching my back. Making sure no one sneaks up behind me."

His face lit up in delight and his chest puffed up in pride at being asked to do something really important.

"Can you do that for me?"

"Yup."

Emily smiled in encouragement. "Great. Now if you see someone or something that scares you just tug on my belt. Got it?"

"Got it. Tug if I see anything scary."

"Good. Ready?"

Jack nodded.

Emily took a couple of steps forward when Jack tugged on her belt and said wait. He let go and dashed over to the mattress to scoop up the stuffed red panda. Tucking it under one arm, he hurried back to her side and latched back on to the belt.

She glanced back at him, one eyebrow cocked in amusement. "Ready now?"

"Yup."

"Positive?"

"Yup."

Emily took a deep breath. "Okay. Here we go." Raising the Glock with both hands, she stepped up to the door.

* * *

><p>With the gun leading the way Emily and Jack stepped back into the larger room. Pausing, she quickly scanned the room and saw nothing was amiss. Moving slowly ahead she glanced briefly at the doors leading to the bathroom and closet. Seeing them in the same positions she had left them, she focused her attention on the corner that was hiding the staircase. As they moved past the bathroom door, Emily failed to notice that it was slowly opening but Jack did.<p>

Emily felt a tug on her belt. Lowering the gun she peered over her shoulder at Jack who was looking to his right, eyes wide and filled with fright. Emily spun around but before she could raise the gun an object of solid and unyielding force struck her in the head, propelling her backwards off her feet.

"Em'ly!" She could hear Jack crying out for her as she was torn from his grip.

She slammed back first into the hard concrete floor, temporarily knocking the breath out of her. The gun went spinning when her already injured hand hit. Lying on her back, she gasped for air and struggled to keep the darkness creeping up on her at bay. Her head throbbed with every heartbeat and she could feel something wet trickling down her face.

"Em'ly!" Jack's alarm echoed in her ears.

The thought that he was in danger penetrated the fog enveloping her mind. Groaning Emily forced her eyes open to hunt for her missing gun. Spotting the blurry item to the right of her head, Emily slowly rolled on to her stomach and reached out with her right hand. Just as her fingertips brushed the butt of the gun, a boot clad foot slammed down on her hand and wrist, grinding the bones into the ground.

Crying out in pain, Emily grabbed at the foot with her good hand in a desperate attempt to move it. The owner of the boot responded by applying more pressure sending a new wave of pain shooting down her arm.

"Look who has risen from the grave," the Irish brogue taunted her.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, Emily craned her neck to glare up at Ian Doyle. He gazed at her with a bemused look on his face; shifting the tire iron he had struck her with from one hand to the other.

"Ow!" a male voice cursed.

Emily whipped her head around instantly regretting it when the room tilted.

Doyle's cohort had a meaty hand wrapped around Jack's arm whom was struggling to break free. "The brat bit me," he growled, raising his fist to strike the little boy.

"No!" Emily cried out though it sounded more like a croak. She reached out her good hand to stop him.

Doyle's eyes flickered between the two, watching and contemplating. Dropping the tire iron with a clank, he stepped over and caught the man's fist as it was descending. Moaning Emily rolled on to her side, clutching her broken hand tightly against her chest.

"The lady said no," Doyle said in a low voice, staring into the other man's eyes.

The two men glared at each other for what seem like hours before Doyle's flunky broke eye contact and looked down at the floor. He lowered his fist and Jack wiggled free.

"What do you what to do?"

"This place has been compromised," Doyle answered glancing down at Emily. "If she was able to find us then her team won't be far behind. Time to move."

"What about her?"

"Tie her up and bring her along," Doyle shrugged. "I'll take the boy and meet you at the other address when you are done here." He reached for Jack.

"No," Jack said dodging away. "I wanna stay with Em'ly."

Doyle rounded on the boy, his eyes blazing. "Remember what I said about misbehaving?"

"Jack," Emily croaked. Wetting her lips she tried again. "Jack," she called out with more force.

The boy stopped arguing to look at her. "Em'ly?"

Emily plastered on the calmest face she could muster and spoke in a soothing voice. "Sweetie, I need you to go with Mr. Doyle and to do what he says."

"But," Jack protested.

"No 'buts'. I'm fine. You go and I'll be along shortly. Okay?"

"Kay."

Emily smiled. "Good. I'll see you later."

Doyle came over to kneel before her. "That was very smart of you, Lauren."

She glowered at him and said in a low voice. "You harm one hair on his head and you'll never learn where Declan is."

He gave her another one of his half smiles. "We'll talk later," he said reaching to caress her cheek. Emily jerked her head back causing the throbbing to ratchet up another notch.

Chuckling, Doyle stood up and went back to Jack. "Come along, Jack." He grabbed him by the arm and dragged the little boy out of her line of sight.

With Jack gone, Emily turned her attention to the man remaining in the room. He leered at her before making his way over to the storage shelves and rummaging through them for something he could use to tie her up. With his attention elsewhere, Emily attempted to push herself up into a sitting position but the motion made her head swim and she slumped back onto the floor.

Finding a decent length of rope, he turned to Emily who watched with wary eyes. Slowly she pulled her left leg up to her chest and when he was close enough, she lashed out aiming at his groin. Due to her weaken state there wasn't much force behind the kick and the man easily caught her foot. With a deft twist to her leg he was able to flip her back onto her stomach. Emily bit back a cry of pain when she landed on the injured hand.

Moving quickly for a man his size, he knelt down and placed a knee in the small of Emily's back effectively pinning her to the ground. Roughly he twisted her arms behind her back and secured them with the rope. He tugged on the rope hoping to elicit a cry of pain but Emily refused to play his game.

"Get up," he growled. Grabbing Emily by the arm he jerked her to her feet. "Move."

He planted a hand on her back and shoved her forward. The abrupt change in position sent a wave of nausea sweeping over her. Emily managed a few steps before collapsing to her knees and throwing up.

With a snort of disgust, he roughly hauled her back up and dragged her toward the stairs. Emily struggled to keep her feet under her but the constant bouts of vertigo were not helping. Several times on the way up she tripped and banged her knees painfully on the metal treads. Her captor just grunted in annoyance and tightened his grip on her arm and half carried half dragged her through the remainder of the abandoned building.

Once outside, he slammed her into the side of the truck and held her in place with a meaty paw on the back of the neck while he unlocked the door. Emily feebly struggled against the vise like grip. Door opened, he tossed her inside like a sack of potatoes. Emily's head connected with the opposite door and she lost her tenuous grip on consciousness.

* * *

><p>"F.B.I!" Hotch shouted as he, Reid and members of SWAT stormed down the stairs.<p>

When Emily failed to call within an hour he feared the worst. He quickly diverted Rossi and sent them racing to the industrial park. Gathering up the SWAT team and JJ, he rushed to meet them. Once there, Hotch divided them into three teams to simultaneously

search the buildings Emily had mentioned.

Standing in the center of the room with Reid while the SWAT team cleared the rest of the basement, Hotch heard through his earpiece first Rossi and then Morgan saying their respective buildings were empty.

"Agent Hotchner," the team leader said as he came up, "we found something I think you should see."

Hotch nodded and turned to Reid. "Take a look around out here."

"Sure." Reid watched as Hotch followed the man to a room at the far end.

He started to circle the room slowly, eyes carefully studying the floor. In the shadows he found a tire iron.

"Odd place to find one," he observed as he slipped on a pair of latex gloves. Kneeling down, Reid picked it up gently by one end and slowly turned it. He frowned when he found a reddish brown stain on it. Quickly he scanned the surrounding area and found what he thought was more stains. He was about to lean in closer when Hotch marched grim faced out of the other room.

"Jack was here," Hotch said with barely contained anger. He held out a bag with the National Zoo logo on it and a bunch of drawings. "There's paper and a box of crayons in there."

Reid gulped and said nervously. "I got something."

"What?"

"I think there was some sort of scuffle over here." He held up the tire iron. "There is blood on this and," he pointed down, "on the floor." Reid paused and then took a few more steps. "Hmmm…looks like some one threw up over here."

"Do you think they came from two different people?"

Reid shrugged. "Hard to say but the way I see it is that whomever was hit with this tire iron is probably suffering from a concussion. Vomiting is one of the symptoms."

"Contact Garcia and have her send over a Crime Scene Unit to take samples. We need to find out whose blood this is."

Reid nodded and fished his phone out of his pocket.

"Find anything?" Rossi asked as he descended the stairs.

Hotch showed him what he had found. "This was where Doyle was hiding with Jack but it looks like our diversion might have spooked him."

Rossi bent down to study the small pool of blood. "Any sign of Prentiss?"

"None. I sent Morgan and JJ with SWAT to canvas the surrounding buildings."

Reid came over to stand next to the kneeling Rossi. "Whatever happened here didn't occur too long ago. The blood has barely begun to congeal."

A glint of metal caught Rossi's eye. He stood up and moved over to the wall. "Hello," he said and used a latex glove to pick up the gun. "A Glock 26 with no serial number," he observed.

"Doyle's?" Reid asked.

Rossi shook his head. "It's probably Emily's. I can't see her coming in here unarmed. That would have been suicide."

"How did she get it through customs?"

Rossi smiled at the boy genius. For someone who was so smart at times he could be so naïve. "She didn't. Odds are that she bought it off the street." He slipped the gun into his pocket.

Reid's eyes widen in surprise. "That's evidence."

Rossi looked at Hotch. "Did you see a gun?"

"No, I didn't."

"But, but…" Reid stammered.

"Reid, the last thing we need to do is to get Prentiss in trouble for carrying an unregistered gun. She's got a bigger problem right now."

At that moment Morgan and JJ entered the basement. "No sign of Doyle, Jack or Prentiss," he announced. "You find anything?"

Hotch quickly brought the two up to date on everything they had discovered omitting the Glock.

"So where does this leave us?" JJ asked.

"In the same mess we've been in for the last two days," Reid answered.

Hotch crossed his arms and frowned at the floor. "I can think of three possible scenarios. One: Prentiss found Jack and they are now hiding because Doyle is after them. Two: Doyle took Jack with him and she is in hot pursuit."

Morgan shook his head. "If either of those had transpired why didn't she call you?"

"Maybe Emily couldn't get a signal or her phone died," JJ suggested. "Burner phones can be highly unpredictable."

"Prentiss would have found a way," Morgan countered.

"Agreed," Hotch said. "That leaves us with the third scenario. Doyle has both of them." He paused, not wanting to voice his next thought.

Rossi did it for him. "If Doyle has Emily then Jack has become expendable."

* * *

><p><em>Looks like Emily has gotten herself into quite a sticky situation. Tune in next week to see if she can get herself and Jack out of it.<em>


	13. Chapter 13

_Shall we see if Emily can get herself out of the jam she is in? I'm curious as all get out and I'm the one who wrote it. Must have a short attention span._

* * *

><p>Consciousness returned in bits and pieces. Sounds and smells would punch temporary holes in the fog enveloping Emily's mind only to be filled seconds later. As time passed the holes grew bigger and the fog started to recede. Her mind now registered voices and she fought to wake. She let out a low moan and the voices fell silent.<p>

"Here."

Something wet was pressed to her lips. Her sluggish mind said it was water and Emily drank greedily.

"That's enough." The water was taken away. "Don't want you throwing up all over me. Now open your eyes."

Emily struggled to obey. Her right eye opened to a slit but her left seemed to be glued shut.

"Hold still."

Her ears registered the sound of water being poured and then something rough and damp touched her cheek and she instinctively jerked her head back. A hand clamped onto her jaw.

"I said hold still," the voice hissed.

The pressure on her jaw increased until Emily complied. She silently endured having the rough material run over the side of her face. A hand patted her lightly on the cheek.

"There. Try again."

This time Emily was able to force both eyes open and winched at the light. To her, she was staring directly into the sun when in actuality the room was dimly lit. Squinting against the nonexistent glare, she tried to focus on the blurry shapes across from her while the drummers in her head continued their relentless pounding against her skull.

With each blink the fuzzy shapes slowly converged into the form of Ian Doyle. He was leaning back casually in a chair, one ankle resting on his knee, a water bottle in one hand and a bloody rag in the other.

"Look who has decided to join us. Enjoy your little nap?"

Emily licked her lips. Doyle gave her another sip of water. "Not particularly," she croaked.

He smiled. "Well someone has been eagerly waiting for your arrival. He's been calling your name on and off for the last three hours and it was starting to get on my nerves."

Shit, she silently swore, she had been out cold for three hours. That was not good. Probably means she has a concussion to go along with the now broken hand and wrist that throbbed from being tied behind her back.

Carefully Emily took stock of her situation. Doyle had dumped her on a wooden chair but had not tied her to it. He probably figured the concussion would prevent her from escaping and he was right. She doubted that she could take a couple of steps before falling flat on her face. Through half closed lids she looked around. She vaguely remembered being dragged out of the faucet factory. They must be in Doyle's fallback hideaway. Judging from the smaller size of the room, the low ceiling and the ductwork they were in the basement of a house and an old one at that. The foundation was made up of stone, not the cinderblock or concrete found in newer homes.

Directly behind the reclining Doyle was a door that probably opened into the room where he had stashed Jack. Through it she could just hear him calling out her name.

Doyle's smile broadened when he saw her looking over his shoulder. "Do you want to verify that I hadn't harmed a hair on his head?" he asked reading her mind.

"Yes," she said in a low voice.

He stood, calling out as he walked over. "Jackie, me boyo, guess who has finally decided to grace us with her presence." He swung the door open and Jack sidled out between him and the doorframe, giving Doyle a guarded look. Doyle pointed and Jack's face broke out into a relieved grin.

"Em'ly," he whispered. Jack scampered over, climbed into her lap and wrapped his arms around her neck in a hug. He leaned back and looked at her curiously when she didn't return the hug.

"Sweetie, are you okay? Mr. Doyle didn't hurt you, did he?" Emily asked while sweeping her eyes over him, looking for any abrasions or bruises.

"No." Jack shook his head. "He just scared me." His gaze drifted up to her forehead. "You're bleeding." He turned and glared accusingly at Doyle. "He hurt you."

"It looks worse than it is," she said, trying to mollify the boy like she had tried with Reid when Cyrus had beaten her. Neither one believed her.

"Are we going home now? You said we could."

Emily sighed. "I know I did but it looks like Mr. Doyle and I have a few things we need to talk about first. Sorry."

Jack played with a strand of her hair. "That's okay as long as you don't take forever. I don't like this place any better than the other one."

"I won't." She gave him a smile and then nodded to the door. "Jack, why don't you wait in the other room while we talk. I'll come and get you when we get done."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Jack gave her one more hug before sliding off her lap. As he walked passed Doyle he paused and abruptly kicked him as hard as he could in the shin. "That's for hurting Em'ly."

Emily suppressed a smile as her little defender marched into the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

Doyle's eyes flared in anger, his hands clenching into fists. "I warned him," he snarled.

He took a step toward the door when Emily called out. Jack with his sudden burst of chivalry had unwittingly drawn Doyle's ire. She had to redirect his anger to her. She could take it, Jack couldn't.

"Now you're going to take out your anger on a little boy? That's not very mature."

He froze and turned his steely gaze on her. She could see him grinding his teeth. She knew in that instant that she was in for a world of hurt but it would be worth it if it kept Jack safe.

"But then beating up a woman who can't defend herself isn't much better. Why don't you untie me and give me a fighting chance?" She gazed up with what she was a hopeful look. "I'll give you a run for your money."

When he didn't move, she continued. "I seem to recall whipping your ass."

He came to stand before her. "Feels like we have done this before. Now what is that word? Oh, yes. Déjà vu."

"More like a nightmare," she muttered and was rewarded with a hard slap to her left cheek that wrenched her head to the right. Emily tasted blood from where her teeth had cut into the side of her mouth. Slowly she turned her head back to him.

"I would control that tongue of yours if I were you," he warned.

"Well, you're not," she retorted earning a harder second slap that split her lip and almost knocked her out of the chair.

Emily gently prodded the lip with her tongue. "Now that you have me why don't you let Jack go?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because he is of no use to you. My old team doesn't know about Declan. I never told them. Why don't you just drop him off on a street corner somewhere? Someone will get him back to his father."

"And that will stop his father from pursuing me?"

"Hell no. Hotch will hunt you down but releasing Jack unharmed would keep him from killing you."

Doyle appeared to be considering her suggestion.

"Which would you prefer? Buried in an unmarked grave in Potter's Field or spending the rest of your life in a cushy American prison? I might even consider bringing Declan for visits."

He chuckled. "Nice pitch, Emily. You were very convincing but its not going to fly."

Emily shrugged. "Can't blame a girl for trying."

He smiled. "No, I can't," he agreed and then the smile faded. "And I don't like being made a fool of." His foot lashed out and knocked the chair out from under her.

Emily went down in a heap. She landed on her bound hands, sending a new wave of pain shooting up her arm. The back of her head bounced off the floor with enough force to make her see stars. With a grunt she rolled onto to her side to find Doyle standing over her. He let his gaze slip over her, studying her from top to bottom, undressing her. Emily did not like where this might be heading.

"I just realized I haven't examined my handiwork from our last get together," he smirked, bending down.

She tried to push away. It was one thing to let a curious little boy look at her scar, it was quite another when the man wanted to relish in the pain he had caused. Enjoying her discomfort, Doyle reached for the hem of her shirt. Emily's knee shot up smashing into his jaw. His head jerked back, jaw snapping shut with an audible click.

He rocked back on his heels. "Aargh," he roared, rubbing his aching jaw. "You're going to pay for that." He aimed a kick at her ribs.

Anticipating the attack, Emily twisted to one side to protect her ribs and ended up taking the full brunt of the boot-clad kick with her left hip. There was a flash of excruciating pain before the leg went numb. Doyle tried a second time. Again she dodged it and took that blow on the same hip. The third time around Emily wasn't so lucky. The toe of Doyle's boot grazed her side, not hard enough to break any ribs but enough to knock the breath out of her.

While she gasped for breath, Doyle straddled her legs, lifted up her shirt and placed his hand on the scar. "Nice." He grinned maliciously and pressed down, reveling in the pained look that flashed across her face.

"And now for my masterpiece." He shifted his weight to pin her more effectively to the ground. Slowly, provocatively he ran his hand up under her shirt and along her chest. Reaching her breast, he caressed it with his fingers, searching for the clover brand.

Doyle's eyes narrowed and he removed his hand. "What did you do?" he hissed.

"What?" Emily coughed.

He surged to his feet. Grabbing her by the front of her shirt, he hauled her up. He leaned in until they were almost nose-to-nose and stared into her eyes. She matched his stare with one of her own.

"What did you do?" he repeated in a low voice shaking her.

Emily smiled. "Oh, that. I told you I had enough ink so while I was lounging around in the hospital I had a plastic surgeon remove it. He did a pretty good job. Just some minor scarring. Now you can't tell what it used to be." Though the brand may be physically gone it was still permanently burned in her mind.

"Bitch." Furious that she had discarded another one of his gifts he turned and smashed Emily face first in the wall. She was out cold before her body hit the floor.

* * *

><p>"What the hell is going on?" Erin Strauss demanded turning from the window in Hotch's office with her arms crossed. Hotch stood still and said nothing, knowing her tirade wasn't finished.<p>

"First your son was simply missing. Then he wasn't and was with his Aunt. And now he has been kidnapped by of all people Doyle. Which one is it, Agent Hotchner?" she regarded him with her lips pressed in a thin, disapproving line.

"The third one, Ma'am," he answered calmly.

"I see. Now tell me why I wasn't in on this little secret?"

"Because you would have wanted to form another task force and you would have also taken the team off the case."

"Damn right I would have." She laid both hands on the edge of his desk, leaned forward and said in a voice tinged with annoyance. "What made you think that your team could find Doyle when other agencies have been unable to do so in the last five months?"

Hotch paused then quickly made his decision. "I have a source," he hedged.

Strauss blinked. "A source?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes, Ma'am. A source that has an intimate knowledge of Doyle."

"Is this 'source' reliable?" she asked.

He could hear in her voice the quotation marks she had put around the word 'source'. "Absolutely. I trust her with my life."

Strauss pounced. "Her?"

"Yes. Her."

"Just who is this source of yours?"

Hotch did not hesitate. "Agent Prentiss."

She stared at him dumbfounded. "Did you just say Agent Prentiss as in the late Emily Prentiss?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I did."

Strauss began to pace. Hotch calmly watched her. "I'm confused. You're telling me your source is Agent Prentiss who has been dead for months? I seem to recall attending her funeral."

"You did," Hotch said matter-of-factly. "I faked her death."

Anger burned in her eyes. "Why wasn't I informed of this? She was, excuse me, is one of my agents."

"There wasn't time. I had to act immediately and the fewer the people who knew, the safer she was."

Strauss stepped into his personal space. Hotch never moved or blinked. "Who else was involved in this charade?" she demanded.

"Myself, Agent Jareau and the Director. The protection detail assigned to her at the hospital only knew her by her fake name."

"Agent Jareau," she said flatly.

"Yes, Ma'am. With her State Department connections, Agent Jareau was able to procure three fake passports and bank accounts that Agent Prentiss would need while in hiding."

Strauss rubbed her forehead. "Where are you hiding her?"

"She was in Paris for the last three months."

"Was?"

"She returned when she learned that Jack was missing. She wanted to help."

"Where is she now?"

Hotch paused. "I don't know. We've lost contact with her."

"Are you saying we have three people unaccounted for?"

"It would appear so."

"This is one hell of a mess, Aaron."

"I got them, Sir," Garcia said brightly, barging into the office unannounced. She skidded to a stop when Hotch and Strauss turned to stare at her. "I'm sorry," she stammered and started to back up. "I thought you were alone."

"Obviously not. You do know that there is such a thing called knocking? Try it next time," Strauss retorted.

"I'm so sorry, Ma'am. It won't happen again. I'll come back later." Garcia turned to flee.

"Garcia, what did you get?" Hotch called out, stopping the technical analyst in her tracks. He did not like it when Strauss ran roughshod over one of his people.

"I got the results on the blood found at the scene." She fiddled with the Pad in her hands. "I knew the lab techs wouldn't consider our samples as a high priority. Murder out ranks kidnapping, you know that kind of thing. So I made it my business. I kept calling every ten minutes hounding them until they bumped ours to the top of the list." She frowned. "Some of them were rather rude. They didn't seen to realize…"

"Penelope, the results," Hotch cut in.

"Oh, right." She adjusted her glasses. "The blood wasn't Jack's."

Hotch closed his eyes briefly and breathed a sigh of relief. Jack was unharmed. "Whose was it?"

Garcia bit her lip, gaze flicking nervously between the two faces. "It's Emily's and so is the vomit."

Strauss threw her hands up in disgust. "Great. This is just great. Not only do we have three people missing now we have one who is injured, possibly severely. What else can go wrong?"

* * *

><p>Jack sat with his back to the wall watching the door and listening. He could barely make out Doyle and Emily's voices. He was a bit worried though. He had never heard two grown-ups talk the way they were. To him it sounded like they were throwing things around the room. His Mom and Dad never talked like that. They had on occasion raised their voices but they never tossed stuff at each other. He clutched the red panda tighter. His whole body jumped when something big crashed into a wall and then their voices fell silent.<p>

Minutes passed with no sounds coming from the other room. Getting an uneasy feeling in his stomach, Jack stood up and was about to go and investigate when the door banged opened. Mr. Doyle and the man he had bitten earlier came through dragging something between them. Jack froze in shock. It was Emily they were carrying and she wasn't moving. They dumped her unceremoniously in the middle of the floor. Both men turned and left. Before Jack could even take a step, Doyle poked his head back into the room.

"Didn't want her to break her promise," he said and closed the door. The sound of the lock being thrown echoed through the room and freed Jack from his paralysis.

"Em'ly!" Jack cried rushing over and dropping to his knees beside her still body. She laid face down on the cold floor. Thinking she was sleeping, he reached out and gently shook her by the shoulder. "Wake up, Em'ly," he pleaded. "Please wake up."

Getting no response he leaned over in an attempt to see her face. From the way she was laying he couldn't see. To Jack her position didn't look comfortable so he decided to do something about it. Sliding his arms under her torso he pushed up with all his strength and managed to roll Emily over. With a final big push, Jack got her on her back. He sat back to catch his breath. He hadn't realized how heavy she was. He shook her shoulder again and was disappointed when she didn't stir.

Silently he looked her over. Jack took in the fresh blood trickling from the head wound, the bruised cheek, the small scrapes and cuts incurred when her face had connected with the stone wall, the split lip and the bloodied nose. It occurred to him at that instance that Mr. Doyle hadn't been throwing things around in the other room he had been throwing Emily.

Jack's indignity rose and he glared at the locked door. He had hurt her again. That wasn't right. His Daddy taught him that hitting people especially girls was wrong and Emily was a girl. Well, he'll make sure to tell Mr. Doyle that when he came back. Retrieving the red panda, he curled up at Emily's side and laid his head on her chest. Jack fell asleep to the steady and strong beat of Emily's heart.

* * *

><p><em>Oh no! Will Emily wake up or will Jack be forced to deal with Doyle on his own? Turn in next week for the next, I hope, exciting chapter. There is always the possibliity it could be a down right downer of a chapter. <em>


	14. Chapter 14

_Hmmm...lets see. Where did I leave off? Oh, yes! Emily decided to take a little snooze. Shall we see if she has decided to wake and join in all the fun? Lets. So sit back, relax, and enjoy._

* * *

><p>Emily stirred under his head and let out a low moan. Jack was instantly awake. He latched on to an arm and shook it vigorously. "Wake up, Em'ly. Wake up!"<p>

Her forehead drew down into a frown. "Jack, stop jumping on the bed," she said weakly.

Jack paused. "We don't have a bed."

Her eyes fluttered open. "Then stop whatever you're doing. You're making me sick to my stomach."

"Sorry," he apologized jerking his hands off her arm and behind his back.

She smiled faintly. "That's okay." Suddenly she squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard. "God," she croaked. "I think I am going to be sick."

Emily bent her right knee and attempted to level herself over onto her side since she knew it was not a good idea to throw up while flat on your back. Without the use of her hands and a barely functioning left leg, she was unable to get enough leverage. Seeing her distress, Jack scurried over to her other side and pushed. Between the two of them Emily managed to roll over. As her body was wracked by the dry heaves Jack rubbed her back in small circles in the same manner his Mom did when he was sick.

When the shuddering stopped, he peeked over her shoulder. "Better?" he asked concerned.

She nodded. "Better." She turned her head to rest her forehead against the cold floor. The cold had a soothing affect on her pounding headache; her head no longer felt like it was going to split in two. She swallowed trying to get the bitter taste out of her mouth. She squinted up at him. "Did Mr. Doyle leave you any water?"

Jack looked around. "Yeah," he said spotting a bottle by the door. He didn't recall seeing it before so Mr. Doyle must have slipped it in while he and Emily were asleep.

Dashing over he scooped up the water and flopped down in front of her. Awkwardly he held it up to her lips and she managed a few sips without spilling too much. "Thanks, Sweetie. That tasted wonderful."

Jack beamed as he recapped the bottle.

"How long have I been…" she struggled to wrap her brain around the word she wanted.

"Asleep?" He volunteered.

"That works. Do you know how long?"

Jack shook his head. "A long time. It's light outside now." He pointed to the morning light streaming through the tiny window.

Emily craned her neck to look and groaned. It was morning outside which meant she had been unconscious for the entire night, quite possibly for eight or more hours. If she didn't have a concussion before this, she definitely had one now.

"Can we go home now?"

She shifted her eyes back to the little boy, his desire to leave was clearly written all over his face. She felt bad for him. "Soon, Sweetie. Real soon. As soon as I can figure out to get us out of this room."

"Oh." Jack grew quiet and Emily wasn't sure if it was an indication that a tantrum might be brewing. She needed to focus his mind on something positive.

"Jack?" she asked. When he didn't respond she called his name a little louder. "Jack?"

He looked up. "What?"

"I need your help. Can you untie my hands?"

He shrugged. "I guess." He climbed over her and attacked the knots, the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth.

Emily gritted her teeth as the tugging started to restore circulation to her arms and hands that had gone numb from laying on them all night. She looked straight ahead into the glassy eyes of the red panda that was also lying on its side.

"Is that a raccoon?" she asked, hoping to reengage him in conversation. She didn't like the silent Jack.

"No." She could hear the frown in his voice. "He's a red panda."

"Oh," she said lightly. "I can see it now. The striped tail fooled me. I take it you like them?"

"Yeah. I do."

"I think he's cute." Emily looked over her shoulder. "How is it going back there?"

"Okay. It's tied real tight."

"That's alright," she said in a soothing voice, not wanting him to get frustrated with the knots. "Take your time. You'll get it."

"They have red panda cubs at the zoo."

"They do?"

"Uh huh. Would you go and see them with me? Daddy said I could ask you when you came back."

"I would love to." She smiled to herself. A date. She couldn't remember the last time she had gone on one and if she couldn't then it must have ended badly as usual.

Jack gave a particularly hard tug and Emily bit back a cry of pain not wanting him to think he was hurting her, which inadvertently he was.

"I bought him for you."

"You did?"

Jack smiled shyly. "Yep. I was going to have Daddy send him to you so you wouldn't feel homesick."

"That is so sweet of you, Jack, I love him. Though I don't know how well Sergio will take to him. He'll probably end up stalking him." Sergio, she thought. I wonder what happened to him. Maybe Penelope rescued him before her Mother had a chance to dump him at the nearest shelter. She was never fond of animals.

He laughed at the image of the black cat pouncing on the defenseless stuffed animal. "They'll play together."

"Probably but not in the way you may think." All she could see in her head was the gutted toy and stuffing strewed all over the apartment. Going to be a bitch to clean up.

There was a sharp pull and her hands were free. "Got it!" Jack crowed in triumph.

With a moan Emily pulled her arms forward and rolled her shoulders. She lay there slowly rubbing the feeling back into her hands. "Thank you, Jack. I knew you could do it."

The boy blushed at the compliment.

"Shall we see if I can sit up without getting sick?"

"Lets."

Emily planted her good elbow on the ground and pushed, managing to get into a semi-upright position. Jack came to her rescue again by moving behind her and pushed her shoulders. Within moments she was completely upright. The room spun but she didn't get the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She smiled at Jack who looked on in concern. "So far so good. Now lets see if I can make it over to the wall."

With her good hand and leg Emily scooted backwards until she bumped into the wall. There she leaned her head back, closed her eyes and sighed in relief. "Made it."

Jack picked up the panda and went over to her. "Can I sit with you?"

Emily opened her eyes and smiled. "Sure."

He grinned and settled in as best he could in her lap. He contently leaned back against her chest. Emily wrapped her arms about his waist and rested her chin on the top of his head. They sat for a while in silence so that Jack could begin to feel safe. Eventually he started playing with the panda.

"What are you going to name him?" he asked.

"I'm horrible at picking out names," she answered eyes studying the room, looking for some way to escape. "It took me two weeks to name Sergio. For awhile I was afraid that he was only going to respond to 'yo, cat'."

Jack giggled. "I like Sergio better."

"Me too." Emily tilted her head slightly to look at the wall to her left. "You have any suggestions?"

"I don't know." He examined the animal in his hands. "He kinda looks like Uncle Dave."

"How so?" she asked glancing down.

"They both have furry faces."

Emily laughed. "That they do. Think we should call him Dave?"

Jack shook his head. "Doesn't quite fit. What's Uncle Dave's last name?"

"Rossi."

"Rossi," he repeated. His face split into a grin. "I like it."

"Rossi it is," she said giving him a squeeze. Emily was about to say something else when a glint of metal caught her eye.

"Jack, I need you to move. There's something I need to look at."

Puzzled he did as she asked. He moved off her lap and to one side and watched Emily, using the wall as support, push herself shakily to her feet. She paused to let the room right itself. Before moving she carefully put weight on her bad leg. It did not buckle under her but the slightest move had the hip screaming in agony. Keeping one hand on the wall, she painfully hobbled over to the opposite wall with Jack following.

What she found had her slightly puzzled. "Is this what I think it is?" she asked herself looking at the metal hatch three quarters of the way up the wall.

"What is it?" Jack asked trying to see.

"I think it is." She ran her hand along the edges.

"What? What? I can't see." He tugged urgently on her bad hand.

Emily ignored him and the pain. On the bottom of the hatch she an indentation and slipped her fingers in and pulled. The hatch swung up on rusty hinges and locked into position exposing a shaft. Emily peered into the gloom and felt her pulse quicken. At the other end was a glimmer of light.

She turned to Jack smiling. "Do you know what this is?"

"Course not. If I did, I woulda be asking," he retorted.

She patted the hatch. "This is your way out."

* * *

><p>Hotch felt his anxiety ratchet up to a whole new level when the deadline came and went without Doyle calling. That was proof enough to him that Doyle had Emily in his clutches. Their assistance was no longer needed. This also made Jack's position more precarious. Instead of being used as a bargaining chip to get the team to turn over Declan, Doyle would threaten to do physical harm to him to get Emily to talk.<p>

But the more he thought about it he realized that Emily also had an advantage. She could refuse to talk if Doyle harmed Jack. They would be at an impasse and the longer she held out, the more time they would have to find them. Just hold on Emily, he thought. Hold on.

* * *

><p>"Huh?" Jack looked up at her in confusion.<p>

"This is your way out," she repeated. "It's a coal chute."

Jack looked from her to the hatch and back again. "Coal chute?"

Emily realized that she had lost him. "You know how houses are heated by electricity or gas?" He nodded. "Well not too long ago they use to be heated by coal and they needed a way get the coal inside. This is how they did it." She pointed at the opening. "Follow me so far?"

"Sorta."

She thought for a minute. "Think of it as a slide. The coal gets on at the top outside, slides down through the tunnel and pops out here."

"Oh!"

Emily saw the dawning in his eyes. "And I bet at the playground you have climbed back up the slide part. I know I did when I was a kid."

Jack nodded. "It's fun. And slippery," he added.

"That is what you're going to do with the coal chute here. You're going to climb up it."

"Cool. You'll be right behind me?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. I won't fit. The chute is too small for me but not for you. Besides one of us has to stay and keep Mr. Doyle entertained."

Jack's face grew very serious. "He'll hurt you again."

"I doubt it," she lied smoothly. "I'll be fine until you send your Dad to get me."

Emily got down on one knee. She took Jack by the shoulders and turned him so that she could look at him directly.

"Jack, I need you to listen carefully to me. Can you do that?"

Dark brown eyes met hazel eyes. He nodded.

"Good. Now when you get outside I need you to find a good hiding place."

He scratched his head. "Why?"

"Because it won't take Mr. Doyle long to realize that you are gone and he and his friend will go looking for you. We don't want him to find you do we?"

"Nope."

"Right, we don't. I know you like to climb so what I want you to do is to find a tree and climb up as high as you can."

Jack frowned. "Why?"

Emily smiled. "Because when people look for someone they never look up. Mr. Doyle is going to look behind and under things for you. It will never occur to him to look up a tree."

"Cool," Jack grinned. He decided he couldn't wait to try it out with his friends Josh and Ryan.

"When Mr. Doyle goes back inside, wait a little longer to make sure he doesn't return, then climb down and run as fast as you can. Got it so far?" She looked hopefully at him.

"Yep."

"Good. Like I said run as fast as you can and go up to the first person you see and tell them you are lost and that you want your Dad."

"Okay."

"Now this part is really important. When you are running I need you to try to remember which direction you came from so that you can tell your Dad how to find me. I know I am asking a lot of you but I think you can do it."

"You do?" Jack sounded unsure of himself.

"I do. You are a very smart boy, Jack, and I think you can do anything you set your mind to," she said in encouragement and tousled his hair.

Abruptly Jack threw her arms around her. "I love you, Em'ly."

"I love you too, Sweetie," she said returning the hug. She gave him another squeeze. "Let's get you on your way. Your Dad is waiting."

Emily reached up, grabbed the edge of the chute and pulled herself back up onto her feet. She then maneuvered Jack around until he was between her and the wall.

"Ready, Jack?"

"Ready."

She bent over and wrapped her arms around his waist. With a grunt of pain she heaved him up and into the chute. Jack paused in the entrance and looked back at her.

"Go," she said and reached in to give him a gentle push forward. He waved and then disappeared into the gloom. She peered in but couldn't see anything, not even the glimmer of light she saw earlier. Jack's body was probably blotting it out. She could hear his scrambling and could tell he was getting further away. There was a creaking noise and then the chute was flooded with light.

"He made it." She sagged against the wall in relief. She glanced back in and light had disappeared. Reluctantly Emily reached up, pulled down the hatch and moved it back into place. Slowly she limped back over to the other wall and collapsed against it and sank to the floor. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. There was nothing left for her to do but to wait and hope that reinforcements would soon be on their way.

* * *

><p>Jack paused in the entrance and looked back. Emily smiled and nodded encouragingly. She told him to go and gave him a gentle push forward. He waved and turned to look up the chute. He could see sunlight twinkling through a crack up ahead. He made a beeline for it. The slope of the chute wasn't as steep as a slide would be so he was able to scramble up it fairly easily. His movements did stir up quite a bit of dust that tickled his nose and made him sneeze several times. In no time flat he reached the other end and found the second hatch over his head.<p>

Jack put both hands on it and pushed. It flexed but did not budge. He stopped and pondered his little puzzle. Emily had said he was smart so he should be able to figure this out. A thought occurred to him. Maybe he should try pushing with his feet. Shifting around in the cramp space he got his feet under the hatch and pressed up as hard as he could. There was a creaking sound and suddenly it popped open allowing the morning light to pour in. Jack laid there blinking in the sunlight surprised by his success.

Righting himself, he cautiously poked his head out of the chute. He was surrounded by tall grass. Standing up to get a better look he saw that he was only a few feet from the house and right on the edge of a weed choked flower bed. Remembering that Emily had told him to find a good hiding place he quickly clambered out of the hole, covered from head to toe in coal dust. He pushed the hatch closed with a loud clank. Glancing around he spotted an old, tall pine tree with thick branches and heavy foliage. Dashing over he scurried up it like a monkey and settled on a branch about fifteen feet up to wait.

* * *

><p>Emily must have dozed off for she hadn't heard Doyle until he was upon her. He grabbed a fistful of shirt and jerked her to her feet. He then slammed her back against the wall.<p>

"Where is he?" He hissed in her face.

"Huh?" She shook her head to clear it of sleep.

Doyle slammed her back again. "Where's the brat?"

"Oh! Jack." She smiled smugly. "He's long gone. I sent him to fetch his father."

He scanned the room. "How?"

Emily glanced sideways then leaned in and whispered. "It's a secret. If I told you then it wouldn't be one."

Emily knew it was a bad idea to provoke him but she had to stall him to give Jack a chance to find a good hiding place.

"I told you before to watch your mouth." He balled one hand into a fist and punched her in the side.

She gasped as she felt several ribs give. If his other hand hadn't been holding her up she would have dropped to the floor. Breathing became difficult. She wrapped her good hand around his wrist.

"Why do you care so much about this kid?" His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You love him."

"Of course. Jack is a great kid. You can't help but love him."

"Not him!" Doyle growled and gave her a hard shake. "His father!"

Emily's eyes grew wide in bewilderment. "Hotch? He's my boss, for god sakes."

"I'm sure that didn't stop you. We both know that you would willingly sleep with anyone to get what you want," he taunted.

She laughed. "Why, Ian, I do believe you are jealous. And you should be. Hotch is more of a man than you'll ever will be."

With a growl Doyle threw her to the ground. Emily managed to get her arms out to break her fall. She rolled with through it, ribs protesting. She pushed herself up onto her knees. She looked up at him while her left arm shook from the effort to keep herself upright and gave him a wicked smile.

"You do know that you can love the son and not the father."

Her barb hit its mark. Doyle flushed bright red and bared his teeth. He launched a vicious kick. Emily tried to dodge but it caught her squarely on her uninjured side and a few more ribs gave in with an audible crack. She cried out, wrapped her arms around the damaged ribs and curled into a tight ball.

Doyle towered over her breathing heavily, hand clenching and unclenching. "I'm not finished with you but I got to go find that brat."

Eyes clenched shut against the pain, she wheezed. "You'll…never…find…him."

"We'll see," he snarled and stormed out.

Emily struggled to pull air into her lungs. Every breath hurt. She tried taking very shallow breaths and found it worked somewhat. The pain was still there but not quite as sharp. Gingerly she rose to her knees and trying not to jar her ribs, crawled over to the wall and eased into a sitting position.

She knew that Doyle wasn't going to find Jack. The boy knew how to hide. Doyle was going to be furious when he returned and she had no doubt that he would kill her. She was just as prepared to die today as she was all those months ago. She didn't care. The rest of the world thought she was already dead so it really didn't matter if it actually occurred five months after the date on her headstone. There would be no one grieving for her, well, maybe just JJ and Hotch. This time they won't have to pretend. But she wasn't going to make it easy for Doyle. She wasn't going down without a fight and what a fight it will be.

Pushing her back against the wall, Emily forced herself to her feet. She took slow, calming breaths and felt the tension ease as she calmed her heartbeat. Taking hold of every ache and pain she gathered them together into a tight bundle and banished it to the deepest recess of her mind. Emily focused all her mental and physical energy on the door. Surprise was going to be on her side.

* * *

><p>Jack wasn't surprised when Doyle and his flunky came rushing outside and started searching. Emily was right. They looked under bushes, behind trees, around corners and in several outbuildings but never once did either of them look up. Even if they had they wouldn't have seen him. The layer of coal dust acted as an effective camouflage, blending his shape with the shadows surrounding him. Several times they walked under his perch.<p>

After what seemed to be a long time to Jack, Doyle and the man left. He wasn't sure where they went so he waited a little longer just like Emily had told him to. When his gut told him it was all clear, he shimmied down and took off in the opposite direction. Emily's most important instruction popped into his head. He had to remember which way he came from. He slowed down and tried to pay attention to his surroundings. He burst through an overgrown hedge and ran into a stone wall.

He went down in a cloud of black dust. Pushing himself to his knees he looked around. His jaw dropped in awe. He had never seen anything quite like this before in his young life. He got up and started to walk beside the wall. When he turned the corner, Jack saw some letters etched into the stone. He cocked his head to one side in an attempt to read it. When he couldn't decipher it, he settled for memorizing the letters. He'll ask his Daddy what it spelled when he saw him.

A branch snapped. Jack whirled around and stared at the hedge, his heart leaping into his throat. There came a rustling sound from the other side that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on edge. When the branches started to move he instinctively started to back up. Mr. Doyle had found him, came the terrified thought and he froze.

What to do? What to do? What to do? He kept repeating to himself like a mantra while more branches started to quiver as someone was pushing his way through. RUN! His mind screamed at him. Jack spun on his heels and bolted like a frightened rabbit to the woods bordering the property. A split second later the hedge cleft in two and his pursuer burst through and hurried after the little boy.

Jack plunged blindly into the woods, running as fast has his legs could carry him. Trees flashed by as he dodged around them. Vines threatened to trip him, branches tried to smack him in the face but amazingly he avoided them all. Not once did he look back. Not far behind him he could hear the steady footfall of his pursuer on the fallen leaves. He's getting closer Jack realized and put on a burst of speed that he didn't know he had in him.

His breath was coming out in short gasps and a stitch was growing in his side. He desperately wanted to stop but the fear of Mr. Doyle kept him moving. He plunged down an embankment and leaped onto a fallen log. His shoes slipped on the moss and he tumbled over the side. A thick mound of dead leaves cushioned his fall. In desperation he looked for somewhere to hide. The fallen log was hollow. He scrambled inside and curled up into a tiny ball. He screwed his eyes shut and tried not to breath.

The black and white dog paused with its front paws on the log, ears perked and panting happily. He quickly glanced around for the man-child it was playing chase with. His ears dropped in disappointment. His playmate had vanished. The dog let out a sigh and slowly turned around when a slight rustle reached his sensitive ears. His head snapped to the left, body tense, ears pricked forward. RABBIT! A brown blur shot from under a pile of dead branches and the dog took off in hot pursuit.

Jack laid still and tried to listen which was difficult to do since his heart was pounding so loudly in his ears. He sensed that his pursuer was right above him. He waited for Doyle to haul him out but it never happened. Instead there was the sound of scratching on the log then the footfall started and quickly moved away. Tentatively he crawled out and peeked over the log. There was no one there. Breathing a sigh of relief he stood up, thankful that Mr. Doyle hadn't caught him.

This terrifying event had Jack yearning even more for his father and the safety of his big, strong arms. He desperately wanted all of this to be over. He wanted his father, wanted to sleep in his own bed and play with his own toys. He wanted to show Emily the red panda cubs. Emily. In his flight he had forgotten about her. She was still with Mr. Doyle and he was afraid that he would go back and hurt her. He had to find his dad and started off.

His steps faltered. Nothing looked familiar. Everywhere he looked he saw nothing but trees, lots and lots of the same trees. His stomach sank when the realization hit him. He was lost.

* * *

><p><em>Oh no! Jack is lost. Will he find his way out of the woods? What is Emily going to do when Doyle returns? I'm not telling yet. So stay tuned for the next exciting chapter. See ya'll next week.<em>


	15. Chapter 15

_Madly flipping through my notes. Where did I end it last week? Oh, yes. Jack is on a nature walk and Emily is hanging out chilling. Sounds rather mundane doesn't it? But with this group nothing is mundane or ordinary. Now on with the show._

* * *

><p>The team sat around the conference table looking absolutely miserable. The deadline was long gone and they had not heard from Doyle or Emily. They had no idea what to do next. The faucet factory had yielded no clues to where Doyle had taken Jack and Emily. It was like the three of them had vanished into thin air. This did not sit well with any of them.<p>

Garcia was the first to break the silence. "Are we sure Emily isn't hiding out with Jack?" She asked hopefully, not wanting to think about the other possibility. Morgan burst her bubble.

"We're sure," he said. "Emily would have found a way to contact us by now. Doyle has her." He spat out the last three words.

"He's going to kill her, isn't he?" She gulped.

"Eventually," Rossi said. "Emily is his stressor. Once she reveals Declan location and fetches him, its over for her. But we know her. She's going to stall as long as she can and if she can't, Emily will take it to her grave."

"Is Declan still safe?" JJ asked.

"He is," Hotch said. "Agent Kohler has moved Declan and Louise to another location. I have surveillance in place on the house and the boarding school in case Doyle shows up at either one. It's a long shot." He frowned.

Rossie leaned forward. "What's bothering you, Hotch?"

"I should have told Emily that we had found Declan. We could have lured him into a trap."

"Prentiss wasn't planning on getting caught," Rossi pointed out.

"But she did."

"And Doyle could have eluded our trap. Playing 'what if' isn't going to help us get Jack and Emily back."

On the table Hotch's cell phone rang. He grabbed it. "Aaron Hotchner." He jumped to his feet, startling everyone. "What? I'll be right there."

The team looked at him as he ended the call. "That was the Fairfax police. They have Jack."

Everyone started talking at once. How? Where? Was Emily with him? Is he okay?

Hotch attempted to answer all their questions.

"They're not sure. He popped out of some woods and scared the bejeezers out of a woman doing her gardening her backyard."

"No. He was alone."

"He's fine."

Rossi stood up. "Enough questions." He looked at Hotch. "Let's go get your son."

As the team made their way to the elevator, JJ took a quick detour to her desk. Curious Garcia followed her and watched her pull a sheaf of folded papers from a desk drawer.

"What are those?" she asked.

JJ jumped. "Penelope, you scared me."

"What are those?" She pressed.

JJ glanced at the papers in her hand. "They are Emily's Medical Power of Attorney and Living Will."

Garcia gasped and put a hand over her heart. "You think you are going to need them?"

JJ sighed. "I certainly hope not. I've invoked them once this year and I really don't want to do it a second time."

Garcia peered closer at her. "I sense a 'but' in there."

"I have a bad feeling about this."

* * *

><p>Emily lost track of time as she stood leaning back against the wall, eyes intently watching the door. She knew she had one shot at this and had to make the most of it. The sound Doyle's cursing alerted her to his presence. She pushed away from the wall, balanced on the balls of her feet and waited, feeling the adrenaline starting to surge through her veins.<p>

He barreled through the door, gun clenched in one fist. Emily propelled herself forward, tackling him around the knees. The hit lifted him off his feet and he hit the floor flat on his back. The gun went flying. Emily grunted from the impact and used her momentum to roll to her knees and deliver a left cross to Doyle's jaw, stunning him.

Spotting the gun she dove for it. As she flew past, Doyle's hand shot out, ensnared her ankle and jerked her off her feet. She went down with a thud, chin bouncing off the floor and bringing tears unbidden to her eyes. Doyle yanked her back away from the gun. She rolled onto her side and when Doyle went for the gun, she drew back her leg and kicked him squarely in the face. With a cry of pain he reared back on his knees hands flying up to his bloody nose.

Taking advantage of his distress Emily got on her hands and knees and started crawling toward the gun. Behind her Doyle roared in anger and lunged. Just as her fingers grazed the grip Doyle landed on her, knocking her flat on the floor and snatched up the gun. Emily grabbed his gun hand and drove her other elbow into his stomach. His breath left with a whoosh and his finger twitched firing the gun and burying the bullet in the wall.

Doyle rolled off her and she went with him, wrapping her other hand around the weapon. Emily ended up straddling Doyle as they wrestled for control of the gun. Realizing she would never break his grip with one bad hand, Emily switched tactics. Instead she would concentrate on turning the barrel of the gun toward him and away from her.

The gun went off. The bullet tore through Emily's right shoulder and into the ceiling. She felt nothing. The adrenaline flowing through her washed away the pain. Using her position on top of Doyle to her advantage Emily wrapped her legs around his and using his body as anchor, she put her weight behind her hands. She leaned in pushing down as hard as she could while twisting the gun in his hands. Doyle's face was bright red from his efforts to keep the muzzle away from his chest. A smile of triumph appeared on her lips then it was replaced by a look of dismay when her bad hand slipped. The gun turned.

BAM!

* * *

><p>Hotch didn't recognize his son at first when he literally ran into the Fairfax Police Station. There was a little boy sitting on a desk covered in something black with leaves and twigs sticking out in every direction. It looked he had been rolling in a mud puddle. Then the boy smiled and yelled daddy at the top of his lungs.<p>

"Jack!"

Jack launched himself at his father who caught him in midair and crushed him to his chest. A puff of coal dust tickled Hotch's nose and he sneezed.

"Are you okay, Buddy?" He asked and could feel Jack nodding against his shoulder.

While Hotch got reacquainted with his son, Rossi took the Police Chief to one side. "Any idea from where he came from?"

Chief Andrews shook his head. "No clue. Those woods cover over five acres and it butts up to at least a hundred properties."

"Did Jack say anything to you?"

"He kept asking for his father."

Rossi pulled out two pictures. "Have you seen either of these people?"

Chief Andrews studied both pictures carefully before handing them back. "I haven't. Who are they?"

"This is Ian Doyle who is wanted for kidnapping that young boy there and the other is Agent Emily Prentiss who went missing while searching for Jack. We're afraid Doyle is holding her captive."

Suddenly the room was filled with sobbing. With no warning Jack had burst into tears.

"What's wrong, Buddy?" Hotch asked his son as he sat in the chair JJ had pulled out for him. He maneuvered Jack around on his lap so he could see him more clearly.

"She's gonna to be mad at me," he wailed.

"Emily?"

He nodded and hiccupped. "She gonna be mad cause I got lost." Another hiccup. "She wanted me to remember where I came from and I can't."

Hotch pulled his son into another hug. He said gently, "Oh, Jack. Emily isn't going to be mad at you."

He sniffed. "She's not?"

"No, she's not. Emily is going to be proud of you."

"She is?"

"Yup," Hotch said, wiping away a stray tear. His finger came back black. "You got away and found me. That's what she wanted you to do."

"Oh."

"Now don't you worry. We'll find Emily and bring her home. We are a lot closer than we were before."

Morgan knelt next to the chair. "Hey, Little Man, can you tell us everything that happened to you?"

Jack nodded and launched into his tale. He told them how Doyle had grabbed him and how he was nice to him one minute and scary the next. He happily described Emily finding him and her letting him see her scar, which was so cool. He proudly told them that Emily had asked him to be her backup. Everyone smiled at that.

He grew serious. He recounted how Doyle had surprised them, had pushed Emily down and then he didn't see her for hours. When he finally did, she had blood on her face. Reid mouthed tire iron to JJ. He then boasted about kicking Doyle in the shins. Hotch winced at that. His son didn't know how close he had come to being abused by Doyle. Since there wasn't a mark on him, Emily must have defused the situation. Probably took it on herself, he thought.

He described the odd way Emily and Doyle had talked which had involved throwing her around. "You're not supposed to hit girls," he said vehemently.

"No, you're not." Hotch agreed and urged his son to continue.

He told them that Emily was asleep when Doyle had brought her in and that she hadn't awakened until morning. The team exchanged uneasy looks. Emily had to have suffered a concussion to be out that long. When she did wake up she had been sick. Jack wrinkled his nose. He also said that when she had stood up, she had trouble walking. JJ fingered the papers in her pocket. She didn't like the feeling that she might have to use them after all.

"How did you get out, Buddy?" Hotch asked, trying to speed Jack along.

His son grinned. "A coal chute."

"A coal chute?" His father echoed.

"Yup. Em'ly had me climb up it."

"That explains the black dust," Rossi observed.

"That means they're in a house," Reid said eagerly. "And it has to be an old one."

Chief Andrews spoke up. "That's not going to help. Half the houses here have coal chutes."

"Oh," Reid said in disappointment.

"Then what did you do?"

Jack went on to tell them how Emily had told him to hide up in a tree, how Doyle had come looking for him and when he had given up, Jack made his escape. He skipped quickly over his mad dash through the woods. It still scared him when he thought about it.

Reid frowned. "Jack, can we go back to where you ran into the wall?"

"Sure."

"Was it a wall that was part of a fence or was it a building?"

"Building," Jack said immediately.

"Reid, where are you going with this?" Rossi asked puzzled.

Reid ignored him. "Was it big or small?"

"Small."

"Was there anything on the ground around it?"

Jack thought. "A bunch of stones like the ones I see when we go visit Mommy."

"Guys, I think Jack ran into a mausoleum," Reid said excitedly. "He must have stumbled into a family cemetery."

Hotch looked at his son intently. "Jack, was there a name on the building?"

"Uh huh. I couldn't read it but…" He grinned broadly. "I memorized the letters."

Reid slid a piece of paper over. "Could you write them down for me?"

"Sure," Jack said. He picked up the pencil and carefully printed them in large block letters. Reid read them upside down.

He turned to the Police Chief. "Crowninshield."

Chief Andrews blinked. "They were one of the early settlers. The house is still standing but it has been deserted since the last Crowninshield died ten years ago."

Hotch grinned and hugged his son. "You did it, Buddy! You found Emily."

Jack looked surprised. "I did?"

He laughed. "You did. We now know exactly where Emily is." Hotch set his son on his feet and stood up. No one commented on the Jack size coal imprint on the front of his once pristine white shirt.

Hotch turned to JJ and said, "Could you call Jessica for me and let her know what's going on and see if she can come and pick up Jack?"

"Sure."

Jack wrapped his arms around his father's leg. "Where are we going, Daddy?"

"You're going to stay here with Uncle Spencer and Aunt JJ. Uncle Derek, Uncle Dave and I are going after Emily."

Jack looked up at him with eyes brimming with tears. "Hurry, Daddy. I'm afraid that Mr. Doyle is going to hurt Em'ly again."

* * *

><p>BAM!<p>

Emily and Doyle stared at each other in surprise. Doyle coughed and a speckling of blood appeared on his lips. His face softened and Emily saw the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago.

"Emily?"

"Yes, Ian?"

Doyle looked up at her hopefully. "Is he happy?"

Emily smiled. "Very much. He has a mother and father who love him. He's an honor student, loves playing lacrosse and has been winning a bunch of science fair awards."

As Doyle smiled a trickle of blood ran down his chin. "Do you visit him?"

She shook her head as she gently wiped the blood away. "No. I watch him from afar. He's better off not having either of us in his life."

He coughed up some more blood. "I only wanted to be a good father," he said so softly that Emily had to lean closer to hear.

"I know," she whispered and watched the light fade from his eyes.

Emily released her grip on the gun. Doyle's hand with the gun still clutched in it slid limply off his chest to the floor. With a sigh she rolled off his body onto her back and gazed up at the bullet hole in the ceiling idly wondering where it came from.

"It's over," she whispered to herself. "It's finally over. Maybe now I can sleep now." She let her eyes drift close.

The adrenalin rush that had sustained her during the fight faded and all the pain she had locked away in her mind came flooding back. Her right shoulder flared in agony.

"Ow," she groaned and opened her eyes.

She touched the shoulder with her good hand and pulled it back. She blinked at her blood-covered hand.

"You bastard," she muttered to the dead man. "You freaking shot me." She replaced the hand and applied pressure to the wound.

She should get up. She should get up and find some help. If she stayed here she would probably bleed to death before anyone found her. Emily painfully raised her head and looked at the stairs and her way out. It looked so far away and she was tired, so very tired. She let her head sink back to the floor. Maybe if I rested for a bit I'll have the energy to get up. Lethargy seeped into her bones and muscles. I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes, she decided. Emily sighed and let herself go.

* * *

><p>Morgan was the first one down the stairs. He froze on the bottom step gawking at the two motionless bodies lying side by side on the floor.<p>

"No! No! No! Not again!" he cried out, holstering his gun and rushing over to Emily's side. His mind flashed back to that night in the warehouse when he had thought he had been sixty seconds too late.

He knelt next to her. Looking at her battered and bloody body he knew that this time he was too late. Slowly and timidly he reached passed the bloody shoulder to rest his fingers on the side of her neck.

Emily's eyes shot open and her hand clamped onto his wrist. "Morgan?" she whispered.

Morgan squeaked in surprise and fell back onto his butt. He shook his head in relief. "Shit, Prentiss, we got to stop meeting like this."

A smile tugged at her lips. "Okay. Next time you can do the bleeding and I'll do the hand holding."

He smiled back. "Deal." He gently loosens her grip on his wrist so that he could slip his hand into hers. With his other he accepted the towel that Rossi had dug up and pressed it against her bleeding shoulder.

"Sorry," he apologized when she grimaced. Emily nodded and squeezed his hand.

Rossi leaned in and whispered in Morgan's ear. "The paramedics are on their way. They should be here in a few minutes."

Morgan nodded his thanks, never taking his eyes off of Emily. Rossi patted him on the shoulder, smiled at her and stepped back.

Emily rolled her head to one side. "Is it over? Is he dead?" she asked of Hotch who was bending over Doyle's body.

"He is."

She closed her eyes. "Good," she mumbled and then slowly reopened them. "Hotch?"

"Yes, Emily?" he asked coming to kneel at her other side.

"You have a brave little boy. You should be proud of him."

Hotch smiled. "I am. I'm proud of you too."

Emily made a phish sound to brush off the compliment. Her eyes closed again.

Morgan stiffened and squeezed her hand. "Open your eyes, Emily. Stay with me."

She did and the corner of her mouth curled up into a smile. "I'm not going anywhere except to the hospital."

Morgan grinned and let out a chuckle. "What? No arguments? No flashes of the famous Prentiss stubbornness?"

"Not this time. I'm too tired to argue," she said weakly. "Ride with me in the ambulance?"

"Absolutely. I'm not letting go of your hand this time."

Emily let out a soft laugh. "I think you'll have to at some point. I don't think they'll let you in the operating room."

"Probably but I'll stick with you as long as I can. Okay?"

"Okay," she mumbled. "I need Rossi," she said suddenly.

Rossi moved into her line of sight. "I'm right here, Emily," he said softly.

She frowned up at him. "Not you," she said dismissively. "He's in the other room."

The three men exchanged worried looks. Was she delirious?

Morgan rested the back of his hand against her forehead. "She's a little warm but it's not high enough for her to be imagining things. Maybe it is a symptom of a concussion?"

"Possible," Hotch said. He pointed to the room. "This one?"

"Yes," she answered with a slow nod.

"I'll get him," Hotch said humoring her.

He stood up and walked into the room Emily indicated. At first glance the room appeared empty then he spotted the stuffed animal against the far wall. Walking over he scooped it up and saw it was the red panda Jack had bought at the zoo. It looked like it had a rough go of it like Jack and Emily. The animal's white fur was smudged with dirt that couldn't be brushed away. Could this be what Emily was referring to? He shrugged and went back out.

"This?" he asked, showing her the panda.

Emily smiled in relief. "That's him." Rossi raised a curious eyebrow at his namesake.

"Guys," she said, looking up at their anxious faces. "If you don't mind I think I'm going to pass out now. See you later?"

They nodded and Emily promptly did.

* * *

><p><em>I was going to go with the classic 'Ding dong the dude is dead. Which old dude? The gun running dude. Ding dong the dude is dead.' Oops I guess I did go with it. Sorry for the bad rhyming. Hope ya'll enjoyed it. I hate to say this but the story is winding down. Not too chapters left. Do not fear I have plans for another. Do check back next week for the latest installment. Til then.<em>


	16. Chapter 16

_Welcome back everyone. I know you have been waiting all week for the next chapter. I could prattle on and on but I would just end up annoying you. So I shall be quiet and let you enjoy. And I want to give a big shout to all those who follow and review. Thanks again. Now on the main event._

* * *

><p>Hotch stood to one side and watched as the team settled uncomfortably in the waiting room outside the surgical unit. Their faces betrayed their thoughts. All were thinking about what had happened in this very room five months ago. Here it was where they learned of their friend's supposed death. Now they were back sitting in the same seats, staring at the same bland walls, hoping that Emily will be all right so they wouldn't have to mourn for her a second time. He let his thoughts wander back to the last couple of hours.<p>

The paramedics had come clattering down the stairs with their gear a few minutes after Emily had passed out. One had made a beeline to her while the other had moved toward Doyle. Rossi had cut him off and pointed out his flaw in his priorities. The man then joined his partner. Morgan by then had moved to Emily's other side, his hand still holding hers.

With the precision of years of working together the two men had set about readying their patient for transport. While one had run an IV, the other had applied pressure bandages to the front and back of the injured shoulder. With Morgan's help the medics had eased Emily onto her side to slip the backboard under her. Once they had her strapped down and ready to move Hotch had stepped in and asked what hospital they were taking her to. The senior paramedic said it would be the local one. Hotch had shook his head and said that Emily would be transported to Bethesda. The medic had started to argue when Hotch had thrust his credentials in the man's face and said in a threatening voice that she is going to Bethesda. The paramedic agreed.

Morgan, true to his word, had never let go of Emily's hand. He had held the IV while the men had carried her up the stairs and out to the waiting ambulance. Much to the consternation of the paramedic riding in the back he had sat by her side all the way to the hospital. Just as Emily had predicted the staff didn't let him enter the operating room. Only then and with great reluctance Morgan had let go of his partner and friend. Now he sat, elbows on knees, staring forlornly at the door Emily had been whisked away through.

Hotch snapped out of his reverie when a nurse, clad in surgical scrubs and carrying a clipboard, entered the room through the automatic door that Morgan was watching. The team as one sat straighter in their chairs.

The nurse seeing the anxious looks being cast her way quickly said, "Everything is fine. Miss Prentiss is being prepped for surgery as we speak. We had to take a few shoulder x-rays first. I actually need to speak to," she glanced at the clipboard, "a Jennifer Jareau?"

"That's me." JJ said, standing and walking over to the nurse.

The nurse removed two pieces of paper attached to the board. "When you gave us Miss Prentiss' Medical POA and Living Will, you mistakenly gave us the same documents for a Lee Atwater."

"It wasn't a mistake. Agent Prentiss was a patient here five months ago under that name. I wanted you to have complete access to her full medical records."

The nurse's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. "I see. We'll pull it up but in the mean time are you aware of any allergies?"

JJ answered immediately. "None though she did have a bad reaction to a certain pain killer." She pulled out her phone. "I can't remember the name but I have it right here."

The nurse jotted it down. "What did the medication do?"

"It made Emily sick to her stomach."

"I'll make sure she doesn't get it," the nurse said and left.

Reid looked at JJ with a slightly puzzled look. "You were really with Emily back then?"

JJ frowned. "Of course I was. Did you think I was lying?"

He looked away and shrugged. "You tell me. Haven't you been lying to us for months?"

Garcia surged to her feet. "This is not the time or place for this," she hissed, glaring at Reid. She pointed a trembling finger at the door. "That's our friend in that room and there is a possibility she might die. You should be thinking about Emily and not trying to pick a stupid fight with JJ. Grow up, Reid."

That said, Penelope flopped back down into her chair and tried not to cry. Morgan laid a comforting arm around her shoulders. Reid had the sense to look guilty while JJ chose to sit as from the young genius as possible. The waiting room settled into an uneasy silence.

* * *

><p>Three long hours passed and everyone was getting antsy. No one had come out to give them a progress report. JJ was about to get up and chase down someone when the doors swung open and an older, blonde woman emerged. She glanced between JJ and Penelope.<p>

"Jennifer Jareau?"

"I'm her," JJ said, starting to rise but the doctor gestured for her to remain seated. "Whatever you have to say can be said in front of them." She nodded to the rest of the team. "They're Emily's family."

The doctor settled into an unoccupied chair. "I'm Captain Sarah Barrett. I'm Miss Prentiss' doctor and surgeon and I personally wanted to let you know that she came through surgery with flying colors. She's in post-op right now."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and the tension in the room eased.

Doctor Barrett continued. "We have repaired the damage and if the shoulder heals correctly she shouldn't need any further surgeries on it. We'll have to wait and see. The bullet caused a lot of damage since it was fired at close range. It broke the collarbone on the way in, clipped the shoulder blade on the way out and tore everything up in the middle."

"When can we see her?" Penelope asked.

"Not for a couple of hours I'm afraid. After Miss Prentiss comes out of post-op we'll tend to her other injuries. We need to do a CT scan and take x-rays of her chest, hand and hip. From our initial examination she has sustained one, possibly two concussions, a broken hand and wrist, badly bruised hip and several cracked and broken ribs. Also it seems she had aggravated an older injury that we stitched back up while she was under."

Rossi spoke up. "How long are you planning on keeping her?"

"Two weeks or less. It all depends on how well Miss Prentiss bounces back from the concussions and the surgery."

"You will inform us when Emily is situated in her room?" Hotch asked.

"Of course," the Doctor agreed. "But be prepared that she's not going to be much company. With the combination of the concussion, exhaustion and the pain meds, Miss Prentiss is probably going to sleep pretty solidly for the next couple of days. This is a good thing." She added, seeing the worried looks crossing their faces. "The more rest she gets the quicker she will heal. Now I'm not saying that she won't wake up. She will from time to time and you'll have some short conversations with her that she won't remember later before nodding off again. Any other questions?" She looked around.

"Not at this time, Doctor," Hotch said and offered her his hand. "Thank you for taking good care of her."

Doctor Barrett shook his hand. "I didn't do anything special. Miss Prentiss is one tough cookie."

Hotch smiled. "That she is."

"Well," Penelope said after the doctor had departed. "Looks like we need to set up a schedule."

"A schedule?" Reid asked confused. "For what?"

"For sitting with our Raven Warrior of course. We are not going to let Emily wake up by herself." Garcia whipped out her phone. "Lets see. There are six of us so we can break the day down into four-hour shifts. I'll take the first one since it was my idea."

"Do we get a say in which shift we get?" Morgan asked in amusement.

Garcia winked. "None. And since you asked you get the one right after me. Four to eight. Reid can be next, followed by Rossi, then Hotch and finally JJ." She looked to Hotch and JJ. "I put you two last because you need to go home and see your boys."

Rossi smirked. "Looks like we have everything covered."

"Baby Girl, you do know that your shift is going to be longer than four hours since Emily isn't in her room yet." Morgan pointed out.

"I know," she said brightly. "While I wait I'm going to do some shopping in the gift shop. Hospital rooms are so drab. I need to pick up a few things to liven up the room." Garcia shouldered her oversize purse and headed for the elevator.

Hotch jerked his head at the tech's departing back. "Morgan, go with her and try to keep it tasteful. We don't want Prentiss to wake up and think she has died and gone to decorator hell."

"I'm on it," he said and dashed off after Garcia.

It was then that Hotch realized he was still holding on to the stuffed animal. Since it technically belonged to Emily, he must have planned on returning it to her here. But seeing how dirty it was, he would have to clean it first.

Still looking at the panda, he said, "Rossi needs a bath."

Reid cocked his head to one side and looked Dave over from top to bottom. "He does? He looks rather clean to me."

Rossi rolled his eyes. "Not me, the stuffed animal. I don't know what possessed Emily to let Jack name it after me."

JJ smiled. "I think its kind of sweet." Rossi stared daggers at her and she continued unfazed. "Hotch, let me take Rossi Jr. home." She earned another glare. "I'm very good a cleaning stuffed animals."

Reid continued to study Rossi as Hotch gladly handed over Rossi Jr. to JJ's capable hands. "You know, I can see the resemblance. You both have hair on your faces."

Dave let out an exasperated sigh. "I look nothing like that raccoon."

"I believe it is a red panda," Reid corrected.

"Whatever."

* * *

><p>It was after midnight when Hotch got home. After leaving the hospital he had gone back to scene to make sure it was being properly processed. Then he went to the BAU to fill out all the necessary paperwork and then spent countless hours in meetings with Strauss and the Director defending his decisions. In the end it was the Director who was satisfied with how the case went down and had dismissed him. No disciplinary action was taken and the case was officially closed.<p>

Hotch slipped into the apartment as quietly as possible trying not to disturb Jessica and Jack. After resetting the alarm, he tossed his keys on the near by table and moved over to the couch. He sank down with a sigh and leaned his head back figuring he could catch a couple hours of sleep before heading back to the hospital for his shift.

"Aaron? Is that you?"

He looked over his shoulder to see Jessica coming down the hall tying the sash of her robe. "Yes."

"Thought so." Jessica took a seat next to him and ran her fingers through her sleep-mussed hair. "How is Agent Prentiss?"

"Better. She'll be out of commission for awhile but the doctor assured us she will make a full recovery."

"Good. I would like to thank this woman who saved my nephew. Do you think she would mind if I paid her a visit?"

Hotch smiled. "I'm sure Emily would like that. I'm certain a some point in the next two weeks she is going to be sick of seeing the team and would welcome a new face."

Jessica laughed.

Hotch grew sober. "How's Jack?"

She sighed and looked back at the bedrooms. "Hopefully asleep. I had a tough time getting him to settle down. He's very worried about Agent Prentiss."

Hotch started to rise. "I'll go check on him."

Jessica reached out to stop him. "Before you do, can you tell me what he was covered in? It took over two hours in the tub to get him clean."

"Coal dust," he answered chuckling.

"Coal dust?" she repeated in disbelief.

"Yes. Emily got Jack out through an old coal chute."

"And she stayed behind and took a beating to protect him."

"She did."

"I definitely have to meet her."

* * *

><p>Hotch cracked open the door to Jack's bedroom and peeked in. In the glow of the nightlight his son laid with his back toward him. Smiling he backed up and started to close the door when Jack stirred. He rolled over, sat up and rubbed his sleepy eyes.<p>

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Buddy?" he asked, stepping into the room.

"Is Em'ly with you?"

"No, she isn't. Emily's still at the hospital." Hotch explained as he sat on the bed next to his son. "Remember Aunt Jessica told you that earlier."

"Oh." Jack's face fell with disappointment. "I figura that when Em'ly was done there she would come home with you."

"I'm sorry, Buddy. Emily is going to be staying in the hospital for a while."

"Can we go see her?"

"Not tonight. It's late and Emily is sleeping. I'll take you in a few days when she is up to having visitors," Hotch said.

Jack crossed his arms and pouted. "I wanna go now."

"Jack," Hotch warned.

"She's dead, isn't she?" Jack suddenly cried out. "Mr. Doyle killed her just like George killed Mommy."

Hotch looked at his son in shock. "Whoa, Jack buddy. Emily isn't dead. She's in the hospital like I said."

Tears started to trickle down his cheeks. "Is too! That's why you won't let me see her."

Hotch pulled him into a hug and said softly. "Okay, okay. Don't cry. I'll take you to see Emily."

* * *

><p>Rossi was leaning against the doorframe watching Emily sleep when he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. He turned around and raised an eyebrow in surprise when he saw Hotch with Jack in his arms.<p>

"What brings you two here at 1:30 in the morning?" he asked.

"Someone wouldn't go to sleep until he was sure Emily was okay." Hotch discretely nodded at his son.

"I see," Rossi said. "I think I'll head down to the cafeteria and get a fresh cup of coffee."

"Thanks, Dave."

Hotch stepped into the room dimly lit by the light bar over the head of the bed. He settled in the chair that was pulled up to the side of Emily's bed and moved Jack to his lap. He wrapped his arms around his son and said softly in his ear.

"See, I told you Emily wasn't dead. She's just asleep. Feel better, Buddy?"

"Yeah," Jack agreed and leaned back against his father's broad chest. Together father and son watched their friend sleep.

Hotch let his eyes slide over her slumbering form, mentally checking off her visible injuries. He took in the bandage over her left eye covering the stitched up gash from the tire iron, the bruised and cut left cheek, the scraped nose and what was soon to be two spectacular black eyes. He moved his gaze down to the injured shoulder, taking in the bandages wrapped around it and the upper arm that were not covered by the hospital gown. Her arm was cradled in a navy blue sling that was strapped to her chest to the keep the arm immobilized. Just poking out of the sling were two splinted fingers and the top of the broken hand secured in a heavy brace.

Jack tapped his father's arm and then pointed. "What's that?"

Hotch looked to where he was pointing. "That is a heart monitor. It's keeping track of Emily's heartbeat. Every beep you hear is one beat of her heart."

"Cool," Jack whispered and leaned forward to watch the line bounce up and down for several minutes.

"What's in the bags?" he asked next, pointing to the IV stand.

"Umm…probably antibiotics and pain medication."

"Aunti-boy-tocs?" Jack scrunched up his face as he tried to wrap his tongue around the big word.

"Yes," Hotch chuckled. "They help prevent infections. They're just like the salve I put on your cuts only in liquid form."

"Does it taste bad?"

"You don't drink it. See those tubes hanging off the bottom of the bags?" Jack nodded. "It drips out of the bag, down the tube and into a vein in Emily's arm." He gestured to the hookup by her elbow.

Jack gave off a little shudder. "Does it hurt?"

"Not at all."

"What's that thing on her arm?"

Hotch couldn't help but laugh to himself at his son's inquisitiveness at 1:30 in the morning. "That is a sling. It's going to keep Emily from moving her arm until her broken collarbone has healed. That is the bone right here," he said and ran a finger over Jack's.

" Oh, okay."

He twisted around to look at his father. "Where's Rossi?"

"He went to the cafeteria to get some coffee."

"Not Uncle Dave," Jack said rolling his eyes. "Em'ly's red panda."

God, this is getting confusing, Hotch thought. Soon I won't know who I am talking about. "Aunt JJ took him home to give him a bath. He was pretty dirty and I didn't think you would want to give him to Emily that way."

"No," Jack agreed and looked sadly at her. "Mr. Doyle hurt Em'ly real bad, didn't he?"

"He did. But Emily is tough. She be up and about before you know it."

"Cool. She said she would go to the zoo with me."

"That's great. You'll have to wait until she is feeling up to it though," Hotch cautioned.

"I know."

Out of the corner of his eye, Hotch spied Rossi stopping in the doorway. "Jack, I want to talk with Uncle Dave. Can you wait here for me?"

"Can I sit next to Em'ly on the bed?" He asked hopefully.

"Only if you promise to be real quiet and not wake her," he gently admonished his son.

"I promise."

"Alright," Hotch said and gently placed him on the bed. "I'll be just outside the door. Okay?"

Jack nodded and watched his father join Uncle Dave. The two men stepped away and turned their backs to the door. Jack looked at Emily and then back out the door. Both men were engrossed in their conversation. Jack made up his mind. Inching up the bed, he squeezed between Emily's arm that was lying on the bed and cuddled up against her side. With a contented sigh Jack fell instantly asleep. Slowly Emily's arm came up and embraced his sleeping form. She exhaled slowly and sank into a more relaxed sleep.

Hotch joined Rossi outside Emily's hospital room. "How is she doing?" he inquired of the older man.

"Good. Just as the doctor had predicted Emily has been sleeping pretty soundly. Since I been here she hasn't waken but according to Garcia and Reid she did wake up once briefly during their shifts.

"Did she say anything?"

"They both said she asked if Jack was safe and when they had said yes, she went back to sleep."

"Did Emily stir while Morgan was there?"

"Oh, yes. She did." Rossi answered with a trace of humor in his voice.

Hotch tilted his head frowning slightly. "What happened?"

"Well," he drawled. "When Emily came to Doctor Barrett and a nurse were there. The good doctor ran her through a cognitive test. You know the standard questions: What's your name, where were you born, who is the current president. It went smoothly until the doctor asked Emily what Morgan's name was."

Hotch's eyebrows rose in curiosity. "What did she say?"

"According to Morgan, now remember I got this second hand, Emily had looked at him with a groggy, sly smile." Rossi paused for dramatic effect.

"Go on," Hotch urged.

"She said he was Garcia's Chocolate God of Thunder and then nodded off," Rossi said, trying to keep a straight face and failed miserably.

Hotch hooted with laughter. "She didn't."

Rossi smiled. "She did. The funny part is that Morgan had to admit that Emily was right when the doctor asked if she should be concerned because of that answer."

"She inadvertently burned him."

"Yup. It's a shame that Emily won't remember it."

Mischief glinted in Hotch's eyes. "We may have to remind her."

Rossi winked back. "We just might." He glanced at his watch. "It's way past two. Maybe you should grab Jack and head for home. He has to be tired by now."

"Good idea," Hotch agreed.

As both men turned to go back into Emily's room, Rossi suggested, "Hotch, why don't I take your shift? By the time you got home and Jack situated, you'll have to turn around and come right back here."

"You sure?"

"Positive. I'm already here and you look like you haven't gotten any sleep yet."

"I haven't," Hotch admitted. "Thanks, Dave. I really appreciate this."

Rossi shrugged. "No problem. By the time all of this is over, the only one in the bunch who is going to be well rested is Emily."

"Most definitely."

The men entered the room and stopped short, taking in the scene before them. Jack curled up next to Emily who had her arm around him. Both were sound asleep.

"You do know that this experience has created a bond between them?" Rossi asked.

"I know."

"And that Jack will want to see Emily more often."

"Yes, he will."

"What are you going to do?"

Hotch shrugged. "Play it by ear for now. I'll talk it over with Emily when she's up to it. I'm sure we can work something out. Besides once he knows she is going to be around, his desire to see her may fade over time."

"If she stays," Dave said quietly.

"What?"

"After all she has been through this past year, she may feel that she needs to move on. I wouldn't blame her if she did. Would you?"

"No. But for now Emily is here with us," Hotch said and moved over to the side of the bed. He gently moved her arm so he could pick up his son.

Emily stirred when the warmth at her side faded. Frowning she rolled her head to the left and opened her eyes half way.

"No," she protested weakly and tried to tighten her hold on Jack.

Realizing that Emily was confusing him with Doyle, he leaned down until he was in her line of sight and softly said, "Emily, it's okay. It's just me. Hotch."

Her eyes opened a little wider. "Hotch?" she whispered.

"Yes. I was simply going to take Jack home and put him to bed. It's way past his bedtime. Is that alright with you?"

"Yeah." Emily let go and Hotch carefully lifted the slumbering Jack off the bed.

"Why don't you go back to sleep?" he urged.

"Kay," she slurred, eyelids already drooping.

"Rossi is here if you need anything," he reassured her.

"My panda?" she asked a little more brightly.

"Umm…no. Dave."

"Oh," she said in disappointment and fell back asleep.

Rossi looked at Hotch who had his sleeping son cradled against his shoulder.

"Gee, I feel so loved."

* * *

><p><em>Wow! Would you look at that. I didn't end on a cliffhanger. At first I figured something must be wrong with me but I took my temperature and I'm normal. Well that depends on who you talk to. Now don't forget to tune in next week to see what I have up my sleeve besides my arm. See you then.<em>


	17. Chapter 17

_Yes, I know it is not Tuesday. I have something going on that will keep me from posting and I didn't want to make you guys wait for it so I am a day early. So sit back and enjoy._

* * *

><p>The next day was the same as yesterday. The team continued to take turns sitting with Emily while she slept. The only difference was that she was waking up more often and was engaging in short conversations before going back to sleep. This was a step in the right direction on her road to recovery. The worry that gnawed at each member of the team began to ease. Each was looking forward in their own way of getting reacquainted with their long absent friend.<p>

Rossi stood out of the way by the window while the nurse checked Emily's vitals. She made a slight clucking noise as she noted Emily's blood pressure, pulse and temperature.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

The nurse smiled at him. "She's running a slight fever but it's nothing to worry about. It could be gone in a couple hours but we'll keep an eye on it." She wheeled her blood pressure machine out of the room.

Rossi was about to resettle in the visitor's chair when Erin Strauss strolled in with a small flower arrangement. He raised an eyebrow in amusement. This was the second night in a row he had unexpected company during his shift.

"Chief Strauss," he acknowledged.

"Agent Rossi," she said as she looked for a place to set the planter. The room was almost bursting with flowers, balloons, a 'Get Well Soon' banner and a couple of stuffed animals besides Rossi Jr. who occupied the choice spot at the head of Emily's bed. She settled for squeezing it between two other arrangements on the windowsill.

"How is Agent Prentiss doing?" she asked, coming to stand next to Dave and gazed down at the slumbering agent.

"As well as to be expected after getting the crap beat out of her and then shot," he responded, letting a bit of his irritation at Doyle surface.

"Then she is expected to make a full recovery, at least physically," she added at the very last moment.

"Yes." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Physically and mentally," he stressed.

Strauss turned. "Am I correct in assuming that she hasn't been awake long enough to assess her mental stability."

"Yes, but…"

"So we don't know how much the five months of isolation has taken a toll on her psyche."

Rossi grabbed Strauss by the elbow and steered her to the doorway of Emily's room. Far enough away that they shouldn't disturb her but still close enough to keep on eye on her.

"Erin, are you looking for a way to use emotional instability to railroad Emily out of the Bureau?" he demanded.

"Dave, I do not need to manufacture excuses to remove a bad agent," she said coolly. "Her actions over the last couple of days and five months ago prove she is not fit to serve in the Bureau."

"How so?"

"When she first learned of Doyle's escape, did she turn to us for help?" She cocked an inquiring eyebrow at him. "No, she didn't. She kept it to herself."

Rossi shook his head slightly. "You know perfectly well that Prentiss couldn't tell us. The mission was classified and she was under strict orders not to talk about it."

Strauss rolled her eyes. "It's not the mission itself that bothers me. It's her personal relationship with the man. A good agent does not get involved with their targets. When the task force got close to unveiling her dirty little secret, she ran. Agent Prentiss went rogue and pursued him with vengeance on her mind. If she took him out first, her secret would be safe. Would you want to work with someone like that?"

He glared at her. "In a heartbeat, Erin. In a heartbeat." Rossi paused and studied her for a moment. "Do you want to know what I think?"

Strauss crossed her arms as she stared back at him. "Of course."

"You're still ticked off that Emily refused to dig up any dirt on the team. That she had the gall to defy you and resigned instead."

"How did you…?" Strauss sputtered.

Dave winked at her. "I know more about what happens around the Bureau than you think I do. That woman," he pointed at Emily. "Embodies everything the Bureau stands for. Emily wasn't protecting her relationship with Doyle. She was trying to protect her family and a little boy. She was willing to give up her life to keep all of us safe and she almost died. Twice. What she did in my eyes was a true act of unselfishness."

Strauss opened her mouth to retort but he cut her off. "If you try to pursue this vendetta against Emily, I'll fight you all the way and I know how to fight dirty."

She looked at the profiler and knew it that instance that he would. She fumbled for a way to save face. "Firing her is a moot point anyway. Technically she no longer works for us."

"On paper perhaps," Rossi conceded. "But I believe the Bureau paid for her fake funeral and her medical bills. They wouldn't have if they hadn't considered her a valuable agent."

"So what do you want me to do?" she huffed.

"Think about the unit and the team and what is good for them, not about yourself. Also let Prentiss be the one who decides if she wants to stay or leave."

"You think it is that simple?"

"It is."

"If you two want to bicker like children," Emily groused sleepily from her bed. "Go do it in someone else's bedroom." She yawned and went back to sleep.

Emily's retort brought their argument to a crashing halt.

"Do you think she heard us?" Strauss asked, eyes wide in shock.

"Probably. Just bless your lucky stars that when she wakes up later she won't remember that you were even here."

Strauss bristled at that. She hesitated and then smoothed out her expression. Pretending to straighten her suit jacket, she turned and wordlessly stormed down the corridor to the banks of elevators.

A little bit latter Emily stirred. Slowly she opened her eyes and blinked lazily at the ceiling. Rossi leaned forward in his chair.

"Hey there, kiddo," he greeted her softly.

"Dave?" She asked, focusing on his smiling face.

"The one and only."

The corner of her mouth curled into a smile. "I had the weirdest dream."

"You did?"

"Yeah. You and Strauss were in it."

Uh oh, Dave thought. This is not sounding good. He wondered again how much of their argument Emily had overheard. "We were?" he asked aloud.

"Yes." Emily frowned as she attempted to recall the fading images. "The two of you were my parents and you were fighting over how to punish me for sneaking out of the BAU to go to a Barry Manilow concert."

He chuckled. "That is a weird one."

Emily looked at him confused. "Why would I be dreaming about Strauss? I don't like that woman."

"You're probably not the only one. She had stopped in briefly to see how you were doing. I would say that you heard her voice while you were sleeping."

"She actually came here?" she asked in disbelief. "I figured she would just call in and check with the nurses."

"It looks better to the higher ups when you make a personal appearance. Shows them you care about your subordinates."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Thank god I slept through her visit."

"You didn't miss anything," he lied. He watched her shift uncomfortably on the bed. "Can I get you anything?"

"A drink of water would be nice," she said, licking her lips.

He grinned. "One cup of cold water with a bendy straw coming up."

Rossi turned to retrieve the newly refilled pitcher of water. He poured out a fresh cup and stuck a blue straw in. When he turned back Emily was fast asleep. Smiling he set the cup back on the table.

"You rest, Emily, and don't worry about Strauss. The Woodsman will take care of the Big Bad Wolf."

* * *

><p>JJ paused and took a sip of water from the bottle nestled between her and the side of the chair. For the past hour she had been reading aloud from Vonnegut's Piano Player, one of Emily's favorite authors. It seemed like only yesterday she was sitting next to Emily in the ICU doing the same thing. She must have gone through over six books in those long two weeks. JJ couldn't remember what the books had been about, she had be more focused on making sure Emily heard a comforting voice and letting her know that she was not alone.<p>

"Don't stop. You're getting to a good spot."

Emily's voice snapped JJ out of her reminiscing. She laughed. "How long have you been awake?"

"For a while," Emily said, smiling. "I was enjoying the story and then you had to stop and start daydreaming. Then I got bored."

"Sorry. I was just thinking about the two weeks I sat with you in the ICU. I read to you so many books I can't remember the titles or what they were about." JJ looked at the book in her hand. "I wouldn't be surprised if this one was from that group. Guess I was having a flash of déjà vu."

"I'm not," Emily replied. "This room is a hell of lot better than the one in ICU." She gazed at the flowers and the 'Get Well' wishes decorating the room.

JJ also looked around. "Definitely. They wouldn't let you bring in anything except yourself and a book."

"Where did this come from?" Emily asked, fingering the solid pale yellow fleece blanket covering her.

"Take a wild guess," JJ suggested with a smile.

"Penelope?"

"You got it on one. She said the hospital blankets are too thin and scratchy. She wanted you to be warm and itch free. She was going for a lot brighter shade, neon yellow I believe, but Morgan managed to talk her out of it. He said the glare from the blanket would burn your eyes out of your head."

Emily laughed then winced at the pain in caused. She wrapped her good arm around her ribs.

"Em? You okay?" JJ asked in concern.

"I'm fine. Forgot one should not laugh with cracked ribs."

"And broken ones," JJ chimed in.

"Really?" When JJ nodded, Emily muttered, "Crap. What else have I bruised, cracked or broken?"

JJ quickly gave her a running tally of all her injuries. When she was done Emily leaned back against the pillows, closed her eyes and said 'crap' again.

She reopened them. "How long am I going to be stuck here?"

"Two weeks. One for each concussion you managed to get from letting people bop you in the head," JJ joked. Emily merely groaned.

"Think of it this way, Em. You've already slept through two days so you really have less than two weeks."

Emily looked at her stunned. "I've been here for two days?"

"Yes."

"Please tell me you haven't been here for the entire time."

"No, I haven't. Everyone has been taking turns to sit with you," JJ reassured her.

"Everyone?" Emily asked in surprise.

"Yes." JJ frowned. "Why are you surprised?"

Emily started to pick at the tape on her splinted fingers. JJ reached over and placed her hand over Emily's. "Stop that," she says softly. "Em, why are you surprised?" she repeated.

She looked away. "I just figured that some of the team wouldn't want to see me. I shattered their trust in me when I walked out of the BAU."

"No, you didn't. Yes, there were some hurt feelings but those went away when everyone realized you were only trying to protect Declan and us. Now everyone is relieved that you are still alive and back home." JJ squeezed her hand.

Emily gave JJ a small thank you smile. "Can you call and let them know that I'm awake and that they don't have to keep a constant eye on me? That they can see me any time they want?"

"Sure." JJ said. "I'll do it right now." She pulled out her phone and started dialing.

Emily closed her eyes and listened to JJ talking to each of her friends. It was good to know that no one hated her but she also knew that she couldn't pick up the friendships from where she had left off. She had a lot of making up to do and now was a good time to start.

"JJ?" she asked when JJ had hung up for the last time.

"Yes, Emily?"

"I owe you an apology."

Confusion flirted over JJ's face. "For what?"

"For the way I treated you in those last weeks before I was moved to Paris. I never should have banned you from my room. I was hurt and angry."

JJ sat back in the chair and let out a light laugh. "Oh, Em. There's nothing to be sorry for. If anyone needs to apologize, it should be me. I was the one who dropped the bombshell on you."

* * *

><p><em>The sound of her shoes clicking on floor followed JJ as she walked down the corridor. As she went by the nurse's station, she nodded to the nurses on duty. When she had first started coming to Bethesada she had to show the staff her credentials. Now she knew everyone by name and that included the protection detail. JJ slowed as she neared Emily's hospital room. <em>

_The last six weeks had been the toughest she had ever faced, so many difficult choices to make and lies to tell. One of the hardest was lying to Will. On the day of Emily's hospitalization, the Director of the FBI had contacted her boss at the State Department and requested her assistance on a special assignment. This allowed her to spend every day at the hospital with Emily. Will knew of the assignment but he thought in was at the Pentagon. Every day she would drive to work then hop on the subway and get off at the hospital. It was a precaution she took on the off chance that Doyle was watching her._

_Lying to the team also weighed heavily on her. She had stood and watched, as Emily had been loaded on the helicopter for her flight to Bethesda. The tears she had shed when she told them their friend was dead were real. They were partly from how devastated they looked and partly from the doctors saying that odds were slim that Emily would make it through the night. JJ smiled when she thought of how wrong they were._

_Next were the medical decisions. Emily had entrusted to JJ her medical power of attorney years ago but she couldn't use them. To the world Emily Prentiss was dead. Hotch had to create a new one under Emily's assumed name: Lee Atwater. JJ didn't like the feeling of holding her friend's life in her hands but she took it seriously. She carefully examined every procedure and checked out all the medications to make sure Emily was receiving the highest quality of care available. She had even instructed the staff to call Emily 'Em' stating that it was a nickname she went by. Mainly she did it because she didn't want Emily to be confused if the nurses happen to call her Lee._

_The most difficult part she had thought at the time was in the ICU, sitting next to her friend's bedside listening to the constant beeping of her heartbeat and watching the ventilator breath for her. She brought a book with her every day and read from it aloud, hoping that her voice would be of some comfort to her friend and to let her know she was not alone. Eventually they weaned her off the ventilator but she still did not wake. After two long weeks Emily finally opened her eyes._

_The first few weeks following Emily regaining consciousness were easy compared to the later ones. She slept a lot and was content to listen to JJ read or hear her talk about the team's current cases that Hotch, bless his heart, kept JJ updated on. Because she was so doped up on pain medication it was easy to deflect any questions she asked about the team or her mother visiting. When asked, JJ simply said the team was off on another case and would stop in when they got back and her mother was out of the country on a new assignment. Emily accepted the answers without question. JJ didn't think Emily was ready to be told the reality of her situation. She was too weak so JJ waited and kept pushing it back even when Emily grew stronger._

_Now she couldn't delay the inevitable. Hotch had called this morning to inform her that in two weeks Emily was scheduled to be moved to a convalescence home on the outskirts of Paris. Today became her worst day ever for now she had to tell her best friend that she was dead._

_JJ took a deep breath and knocked on the doorframe. _

"_Come in," came Emily's voice._

_She stepped inside the room and quietly closed the door behind her. Emily was sitting in a chair gazing out the window._

"_Hey," JJ said._

_Emily turned and smiled. "Hey back at you." She turned her gaze back outside. "It looks beautiful out there," she sighed whimsically. "The cherry trees must be blossoming on the Mall."_

_JJ took a seat in the empty chair. "They are."_

"_Do you think you can convince them to let me go outside? I've been cooped up in this room for weeks and weeks."_

"_I can try," JJ said, smiling. "So how are you feeling today?"_

"_Not bad. I made it around the floor twice without having to take a break. I may not be winning foot races any time soon but at least I am moving." Emily grinned._

_JJ chuckled. "And that corpsman you threaten to maim if he didn't stop hovering while you walked?" She knew how much Emily disliked being coddled by the staff. She insisted on doing everything on her own._

_Emily scolded. "He's still there but following at a discreet distance. Some Marine. All I have to do is look at him cross-eyed and he vanishes." She then smiled mischievously. "Sometimes I do it for fun."_

"_You're incorrigible, you know that?"_

"_I do," Emily said with a laugh._

_JJ sighed and looked out the window while tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. _

_Emily cocked her head to one side, sensing something was off with her friend. "JJ, what's wrong?"_

_She turned to face Emily. "I have something I have to tell you and I know you are not going to like it."_

_Emily shifted uneasily in her chair. She knew for a while that something was weighing on JJ but she didn't know what. Now it looked like she was about to find out. "Just spit it out, JJ."_

"_Okay. Hotch called me today and said that in two weeks they would be moving you to a convalescence home outside of Paris."_

_Emily looked at her confused. "Paris? Why would I be going there? Can't I simply do that in my apartment?"_

_JJ bit her lip. "You don't have an apartment anymore."_

"_What? Did my mother's accountant get bored and stopped paying the bills?"_

"_No. The builder manager put your apartment on the market when he was notified," JJ paused to gather her nerve to say the next words, "of your death."_

_Emily stared at her in total shock. "My death?" she finally managed to get out. "Who would tell him such a thing like that?"_

_JJ lifted her head to look Emily directly in the eyes. "I did. Em, we held your funeral six weeks ago. You killed in the line of duty and was buried with full honors."_

_She sagged back in the chair. "I'm dead," she whispered. Suddenly her eyes flashed in anger and she straightened. "Why the hell wasn't I consulted about this? It is my life after all."_

"_Because there wasn't time. You were unconscious, Em. So Hotch had to act quickly and faked your death to protect you," JJ explained._

_Emily almost exploded from the chair but pain from the injury kept her seated. "HOTCH? Who gave him the damn right to take my life away?" she hissed._

"_He had no choice," JJ said trying to calm her friend. "He had to keep you safe while_

_we searched for Doyle."_

_Emily felt like she had just been suckered punch and her anger faded. "He's still out there?"_

"_I'm sorry, Emily, but he is. We'll get him."_

_Looking down at her hands, she said, "The team was never going to visit were they? They think I'm dead." Emily looked up and stared at JJ with cold eyes. "You've been lying to me all this time." She stated more than asked._

_JJ briefly thought of denying it but knew it would do no good. "Yes," she answered softly._

_Emily's eyes widen with the bluntness of that single word. A flash of realization hit her and a wave of betrayal washes over her. JJ watched silently as an array of emotions surged across her face only to be quickly replaced by her mask of indifference. Her eyes darken and became closed off._

"_JJ, I think I overdid it earlier," she said suddenly. "I'm tired and I think I am going to lie down for a while."_

"_Ah…okay," JJ said, thrown off by the abrupt change in conversation. She tried to regain the contact she once had. But Emily had retreated behind her walls and JJ found herself locked out. "I can come back later if you want," she volunteered._

_Emily slowly pushed herself out of the chair. JJ instinctively reached out to help her. Anger flared briefly in Emily's eyes and JJ pulled her hands back. Slowly she crossed the few feet to the bed and eased into it. "That's not necessary, JJ. Go home. Have some quality time with Will and Henry. You've spent way too much time here."_

"_You sure?" _

"_Positive." Emily laid down with her back to the door and closed her eyes._

"_See you tomorrow?" JJ asked. She laid a hand on her Emily's shoulder only to feel her shrink away from it._

"_Yeah."_

_JJ took one last look at her friend before opening the door and exiting._

_When Emily heard the click of the door closing, she opened eyes and with tears glistening, she whispered, "Goodbye, JJ."_

_The next morning JJ arrived as usual and was just walking past the nurse's station when one stepped out to greet her._

"_Agent Jareau," the nurse said tentatively._

_Warning bells went off in her head. "Is something wrong with Em?" she asked quickly._

_The nurse smiled. "Miss Atwater is fine though she seems to be more withdrawn today."_

_JJ breathed a sigh of relief. "That's my fault," she confessed. "I gave her some bad news yesterday."_

_The nurse shifted from one foot to the other. "I have a message from Miss Atwater for you."_

_JJ tensed. "What is it?"_

"_I hate to say this because I know you are a nice person but Miss Atwater has informed us that she no longer wishes for you to visit her. She has also revoked your Medical Power of Attorney. I'm sorry but I can't allow access to her room."_

"_I see," JJ stared down the corridor at Emily's door. She knew Em had taken the news hard but not this hard. But then when she thought about it she couldn't blame Emily for reacting this way. It was a lot to swallow in a short time._

_She turned her attention back to the nurse. "Did she have anything else to say to me?"_

"_She did. She asked me to tell you to have a good life."_

_With that sentence Emily severed her one remaining tie to her old life. She accepted what fate had destined for her. To always be alone._

* * *

><p>"Still," Emily protested. "I shouldn't have treated you like that. You were only doing what you thought was best for me."<p>

JJ gave her a rueful smile. "I should have told you sooner. We probably could have worked through it together. You would have still thrown me out but I would have had a chance to worm my way back into your good graces."

Emily chuckled, trying not to jar her ribs. "Probably."

JJ leaned in. "I'll let you in on a little secret. Even though you kicked me out I still came back everyday."

"I didn't know that." Emily said in surprise. "No one told me."

"That's because I asked the staff not to. I just wanted to make sure you were doing all right but I also wanted to give you plenty of space to work through it."

"Thank you, JJ."

"So we're good?" JJ asked, cocking an eyebrow at her friend.

"Yeah. We're good."

JJ held up the book. "Shall we continue?"

"Yes."

"Now where did I leave off?" She started flipping through the pages.

Emily smiled and leaned back against the pillow. "You had just finished chapter seven. Eight is where it starts getting good."

"Right." JJ said and started to read. Emily closed her eyes and was content to listen.

* * *

><p><em>Would you look at that. Two weeks in a row with no cliffhanger but a bit of tension in the middle. I shall be back on schedule so I shall see all of you next Tuesday. Till then.<em>


	18. Chapter 18

_Hello, hello everyone. Hoped everyone enjoyed the early post like week. Well I am back on schedule for now. Summer can get busy which screws with my posting. I'll try to stick to it for the few chapters that are remaining. Now go read._

* * *

><p>"Good afternoon," Garcia cheerfully announced, breezing into the Emily's room toting a large shopping bag in one hand and a drink cup in the other.<p>

"Hi," Emily said with a smile, looking up from the unappealing lunch she was poking at.

"Any good?" she asked, plopped down in the visitor's chair and set the bag down with a loud thud.

"I don't know. I haven't tried it yet," Emily admitted, making a face. Just one whiff of the meal had killed her appetite.

"Em, you have to eat. You're way too skinny, girl."

"I know, Pen, but the pain meds are screwing with my appetite."

Garcia smiled. "I thought they might so I brought you something that I always like when I'm sick." She handed the drink to Emily. "A cookies n' cream milkshake. Cool on the throat, filling and so full of the stuff that's not good for you that it will put a pound on you in snap."

Emily took a sip. It slid down her throat smoothly and quieted her growling stomach. "It delicious, Pen. Thanks."

"No problemo. Look at this," she tutted, picking up the apple from the lunch tray. "They didn't even slice it for easier eating." She held up the knife. "Peeled or unpeeled?" she questioned.

"Peeled."

Penelope started peeling. "Just be glad they didn't send up a banana. They wouldn't have given a second thought to how you would open it with one hand."

"Hey!" Emily said in her defense. "I still have a thumb and two fingers that work." She wriggled them to make her point.

"True," Garcia conceded and then pointed with the knife to the sling. "But said appendages are attached to the hand that is strapped to your chest and located up near your left shoulder. Talk about a awkward position to open things." She peeled the apple in one long strip and neatly sliced it. "Done. Now eat."

"Yes, Mom," Emily teased and popped a slice in her mouth.

"So my Wounded Warrior, how are you feeling?"

"Not bad," she admitted. Better than I was this morning. Maybe I'm catching my second wind."

"And then you'll crash tonight," Penelope pointed out.

Emily grinned. Probably. But I'll sleep through the night. Oh, I want to thank you for the blanket. It was very thoughtful of you."

Garcia's eyes grew wide. "Thanks, Em, for reminding me. I picked up some stuff for you," she said excitedly and pulled the shopping bag on her lap. She started rummaging through it.

"Penelope, you didn't have to do that," Emily protested.

Garcia stopped. She looked at Emily her face deadly serious. "Yes, I do. I didn't get a chance to do it last time."

Emily's eyes filled with sadness. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

She nodded. "I need to do this. Just let me spoil you this one time."

"Okay," Emily smiled. "So what's in the bag?"

Garcia's high wattage smile returned. "I've got all sorts of goodies for you. Let's see. I got you some pajamas." She pulled out two pairs: one in a solid light blue and the other also light blue but with black cats all over it. "Those hospital gowns are so drafty and they expose things that you don't want exposed." She picked up the sleeve of one. "I've split the seam on the sleeve so you can get it over your hand. And," she continued before Emily could say a word. "I got you a matching robe, non skid slippers and a couple of warm stocks."

"Wow. I'll be the height of fashion for, " she paused, "whatever floor I am on."

"Eighth," Garcia supplied.

"Eighth floor."

Penelope piled the clothing on the nightstand next to the bed. "I'll leave it to the nurses to help you change. I don't have a clue how to remove that rig you are wearing."

For which Emily was relieved. It was embarrassing enough having the nurses helping you with things that you normally were able to do. She hated feeling weak. It had been tough letting JJ see her in that condition but she wasn't ready to let the rest of the team see. And then there was the scar. Jack was the only person she had allowed to see it and only because he was a little boy and it had distracted him from his perilous situation.

"That's a good idea," Emily agreed. "They haven't shown me yet on how to remove the sling. Thanks, Penelope, for the sleepwear. I'll definitely be more comfortable."

"Oh, I'm not done yet," Garcia said while waggling a finger at her. "I haven't gotten to the fun stuff yet."

Emily shook her head in amusement. The bag didn't look big enough to hold anything else yet Penelope continued to dig through it. "Did you steal Mary Poppins' valise?" she teased the technical analyst.

"Cute," she answered. "Watching TV all the time can get boring so I brought you some entertainment." She dumped in Emily's lap several magazines and a bunch of puzzle books for crosswords, word seeks and sudoku. "Didn't know which one you liked so I got you one of each." Suddenly her eyes went wide. "Oh gosh, Emily. I'm so sorry. I forgot."

Emily glanced at her curiously. "Forgot what?"

"That you are right handed. You won't be able to do them. I'll take them back."

She went to retrieve the offensive puzzle books but Emily was quicker and moved them out of her reach. "They're fine. I think I can handle circling and printing with my left. I'm going to have a weeks to practice."

"You sure?"

"Positive. So what else do you have in that bottomless bag of yours?"

"Only two more things," she admitted sheepishly. Emily just shook her head. "I know you are old fashion when it comes to books but I thought this might be easier to hold for the time being." She handed Emily an E Reader. "I downloaded a ton of mysteries and fiction and I found for you the Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe. Unabridged."

"Wow." Was all that Emily could say. It felt like Christmas in July.

"Now I saved the best for last," Garcia grinned and dipped her arm into the bag to pull out a framed photograph. "A picture of our little Boo."

Emily's face broke into a wide grin. "Sergio! I was hoping you had him."

"I do."

"He's a charmer isn't he?" Emily beamed.

"Absolutely. I want visitation rights."

"You got it." Emily fondly ran her fingers over the photo of the black cat. She hadn't realized until now how much she had missed her furry companion. Now she was looking forward to falling asleep with him curled in the bend of her knees and waking to fine him in possession of over half the bed. Something odd about the picture caught her eye. She brought it closer to get a better look. She blinked twice before turning to Garcia in puzzlement.

"Penelope? Is Serge wearing a leather jacket?"

* * *

><p>Reid stood outside of Emily's room nervously shifting from foot to foot. He wanted to go in but at the same time he didn't. He was happy that she was back but was also angry about being kept in the dark by JJ and Hotch and to a lesser degree by Emily. The last didn't make sense since learning that Emily hadn't had a say in what happened to her but it still bothered him. Maybe he was still upset that he hadn't been given a chance to say goodbye.<p>

Reid, you can come in you know. I'm not contagious."

He jumped at the sound of her voice. Caught he stepped into the room with an embarrassed look on his face.

Emily silently watched him as he settled uneasily in the chair and rested his satchel in his lap. "Hey," she said, giving him a small smile.

"Hey," he said, returning the smile and then dropping his eyes to his hands.

He was speechless. For the first time he didn't know what to say and that spooked him. The previous time he had been here at her bedside she had been sleeping. There was no need to talk but to simply watch over her. Reid felt guilty that he couldn't talk to his friend so he forced himself to.

"How are you?" he ventured.

"I'm okay."

"Great." Reid looked away and the two sat in silence.

"Are you still having the headaches?" she asked.

His eyes snapped back up and saw the genuine concern in hers. "A few but they're not as bad as they once were," he admitted.

"Is that good?"

"It is," he said and the room grew quiet again.

Emily watched him intently. She could see how uneasy he felt around her and it saddens her. Their easy friendship was gone, hopefully not for good. Of all her teammates she knew he would take it the hardest. Reid must feel like she had abandoned him, left without saying goodbye, which technically she did. The best thing for her to do was to let him proceed at his own pace even if it meant one-sentence conversations from here on.

"I got you some chocolates." He fiddled with the flap of his satchel. He pulled out the box and handed it to her. "I remembered you saying that you loved chocolate," he said nervously. And when he was nervous he rambled. "So I stopped at Mallory's Chocolates to pick up a box. I thought it would be real simple but it wasn't. There was quite a variety to choose from and I didn't know what you liked. There are nut clusters that have peanuts, almonds or cashews in them. Chocolates with soft centers like vanilla, strawberry, orange…"

While Reid rattled on Emily, after a bit of a struggle, got the lid off and took out a piece. She bit into it, chewing slowly to savor the taste.

"…Chocolate and butter cream. I also considered getting a box of mixed chocolates but I didn't like how the odds are stacked against you in finding what you like on the first try. I finally settled on caramels but was stumped on if you liked milk chocolate or dark so I got you both."

Reid came up for air and saw her smiling at him.

"What?" he asked, somewhat defensively.

"I missed that," she confessed.

"Missed what?"

"Your rambling." Her face grew serious. "Never take anything for granted, Reid. Once it is taken from you only then will you realize how much you miss it."

"I never got a chance to say goodbye," he mumbled, looking at the floor.

Emily leaned over painfully to briefly touch him on the shoulder. His came head came up and she dipped hers so she could see his eyes. "I know," she said softly. "Neither did I."

Reid gave her a small smile. Emily straightened and leaned back against the pillows, tired her exertion.

"I have a deck of cards in my bag. Want to play some gin rummy?"

"I would love to."

Reid's smile grew wider. He pulled out the deck, shuffled it with flair and dealt, placing each card carefully on her lap. Emily spread them out and lifted the corner of each to see what she had. They played quietly for a few minutes.

"Talk to me," she said as she picked up the queen he had discarded.

"About what?"

Emily shrugged her shoulder. "Anything. Whatever strikes your fancy."

"Ummm…" he stammered and glanced around the hospital room. His eyes settled on Rossi Jr. who was watching the game from his perch at the head of the bed. "Did you know," he said excitedly. "That the red panda is not related to the panda or the raccoon?"

"No, I didn't," she said, drawing another queen.

"The Ailurus fulgens, also known as the shining-cat, is actually a small arboreal mammal that is in a class of its own. It is native to Southwest China and the eastern parts of the Himalayas. Bamboo is its primary diet but it is omnivorous. It will eat bird eggs and small rodents."

Reid was so engrossed in his lecture he didn't see Emily picking up another queen from the top of the discard pile.

"The panda is a solitary animal that is sedentary during the day and active from dusk to dawn. When it is hot is sleeps on a branch with its legs dangling and when it is cold it wraps its tail around its face. They walk…"

Emily flipped her cards over. "Gin!"

* * *

><p>Later after Reid had left, Dr. Barrett stopped in to check up on her patient. She inspected the stitches in Emily's shoulder and inquired if she was suffering any side effects from the concussions. Sensing that the doctor could smell bullshit a mile away Emily admitted she was still having headaches but no double vision or feelings of nausea. Satisfied with her progress so far Dr. Barrett deemed that Emily could get out of bed only, and she heavily emphasized only, to sit in the chair or to use the bathroom. No walking around the floor yet. Maybe in a couple of days the good doctor assured her not too happy patient, when you are steadier on your feet. Dr. Barrett noted to herself that they were going to have their hands full with this one. She was going to fight them every painful step along the way. But she liked her patients this way. The harder they fought to get better the quicker they went home.<p>

After the doctor had left, the nurse applied new bandages to the shoulder. She also disconnected the IV but left the hookup on Emily's arm in because she was still scheduled for more doses of antibiotics. Grudgingly Emily asked for help with slipping into a set of pajamas Garcia had provided. The nurse happily agreed and she was soon decked out in black cats.

The nurse then asked if she would like to sit by the window. Emily readily agreed. She eased off the bed and on to her feet. Her legs started to shake and for once she was glad the nurse had a firm grip on her otherwise she would have taken a header and probably would have added a broken nose to her list of injuries. Walking the three feet to the chair was a struggle. The badly bruised hip had stiffened to the point of being almost unusable. Gritting her teeth against the pain she forced the leg the move and using the nurse as a crutch she hobbled over to the chair and sank into it with a sigh. The short distance had exhausted her but she was pleased that she had done it even with the help. An hour later they repeated the process and Emily crawled back into bed, falling instantly asleep and stayed that way for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>"Morning, Sunshine," Morgan grinned, strolling in just as Emily was finishing up her breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast and orange juice. Only a banana remained untouched.<p>

"You're here awfully early," she observed, wiping her mouth with the napkin. "I didn't expect to see any of you guys until later in the afternoon or this evening."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Told Hotch I was stopping before work to see my favorite girl."

Emily cocked an eyebrow in amusement. "I'm your favorite? Garcia might take exception to that."

"You're right," he chuckled. "One of my three favorite girls." As he sat he critically studied the breakfast tray. "Did you eat everything?"

Her eyes narrowed, the dark brown blending with the vivid bruising of the two black eyes. "What? Are you and Garcia the food police?" she asked, obviously peeved.

Morgan gave her his patented grin. "She's the sheriff and I'm just the lowly deputy. She says check so I check. You know I can't say no to Baby Girl."

"Obviously."

"She's right though. You need more meat on your bones."

"Wish everyone would stop telling me what I need to do," she muttered under her breath.

He leaned in. "What was that, Emily? I didn't quite catch that."

"I said weight loss can't be helped when you spend as much time in the hospital as I have in the last six months."

Morgan knew that wasn't she had originally said but he let it go. He could tell she was starting to get annoyed by all the helpful hands and this was only the beginning of day four. He dreaded to see what she would be like on day fourteen.

"You got me there. Are you going to eat that?" He pointed to the banana.

"Do you want it?"

"No. I was going to peel it if you wanted it."

"Oh. Yes then."

As Morgan snapped the stem, two young nurses stopped outside Emily's room, looked in, giggled to each other and left. "There you go. I'll leave the rest of the peeling to you."

"Thanks." She took the banana, pulled down the peel and took a bite.

"Nice jammies by the way," Morgan chuckled.

Emily glanced down at the cat pattern sleepwear. "Thanks. They're comfortable."

"Baby Girl?"

"Yes. She showered me with gifts yesterday," she gestured to the mags and E Reader. "And Reid brought me a box of chocolates. I hope you're not going to bestow a gift on me."

"I am. My gift to you is me," he teased.

"My, aren't you full of yourself today," she observed drolly.

"Ouch," he said and pretended to slap himself on the cheek. Emily rolled her eyes.

"Seriously. I'm glad you don't have anything. I feel bad about accepting these gifts when I have nothing to give in return."

"But you have. You are the gift, Emily. You survived and came back to us. That is what we've all been wishing for."

Emily didn't know what to say. Instead she focused on the doorway, catching a couple of nurses looking in. Caught in the act they made a hasty retreat. She frowned. "Morgan?"

"Yeah, Prentiss?"

"Do you know what is up with the nurses? I noticed that since you been here there's been an unusual number of them hovering outside my room."

Morgan ran a hand over his smooth head. "I do," he admitted ruefully. "And it is all your fault."

"My fault?" she echoed, eyes widening in surprise.

"Yes. It's what you called me in front of the Dr. Barrett and a nurse that first night. I'm sure it was all over the hospital by the morning."

"What did I say?"

"The doctor asked you what my name was and you said I was Garcia's Chocolate God of Thunder."

"Oh." She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

Morgan frowned. "Do you think this is funny?"

She shook her head rapidly. "No." Then against her will her face split into a wide grin. "Yes!" and she roared with laughter while Morgan looked on in consternation.

"I'm so sorry, Morgan," she gasped, wiping at the tears now streaming down her cheeks.

"You should be." He tried to be serious but her laughter was infectious and he was soon grinning.

Emily held up her hand. "Morgan," she said, her eyes dancing in merriment. "I'm so not sorry for calling you that. What I am sorry for is that I don't remember what you face had to look like. It had to be priceless."

* * *

><p>When Hotch stopped by that afternoon he found Emily sitting in the chair gazing unseeing out the window lost in thought while absently running her hand along the sling.<p>

"Emily?" he asked tentatively.

Emily remained immersed in her contemplations.

"Prentiss!" He called out in his firmest boss voice.

Her head snapped around. "Huh?" she said confused.

"I called your name but you didn't hear me."

"I'm sorry, Hotch," she said sincerely. "I was just thinking."

"That can be dangerous," he teased with a small smile.

"Yeah. It can," she agreed.

"Anything you want to talk about?" he asked and instantly realized his mistake. He watched her eyes grow distant and saw that he had lost her. The walls were now up and unassailable.

"No," she said flatly, returning her gaze to the window. The hand that had stilled resumed its rubbing of the sling, a temporary substitution for her nail picking.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked," he apologized, hoping she would come back out.

"No problem." They sat in silence. After a few minutes Emily turned back to him. "How's Jack?" she asked, smoothly turning the conversation away from her.

Now they were on common ground. "He's good," he said proudly. "He's rebounded from his ordeal like a typical six year old."

"No bad dreams?"

Hotch saw the concern now in her eyes and he was touched. "Only one or two so far."

"That's good. He's a brave little boy. I was so proud of him when he kicked Doyle in the shins," she smiled fondly.

"But Doyle took his anger at Jack out on you."

"I could take it," she stated firmly and started to retreat.

He couldn't allow her to do that. "Jack's been dying to see you again."

"He does? I thought after what had happened to him he would not want to have anything to do with me," she answered sincerely and quietly.

Hotch smiled. "Quite the opposite actually. He's been telling anyone who will listen of his grand adventure in which you figure prominently. You're his knight in shining armor and I think his crush on you has gotten bigger."

"Some knight," she snorted. "Who doesn't own a decent set of armor to prevent getting the crap beat out of her."

He chuckled. "Are you up to having a visit from your little admirer?"

"Absolutely."

"Great. But before I go and get him, I have something to give you." Hotch reached for his briefcase as Emily mentally rolled her eyes at another gift. "Here you go," he said and held it out.

Emily looked at it and then at him. "A file?" she asked dubiously. "Gee, Hotch, you do know how to make a girl feel special. I always wanted one."

He managed to frown and smile at the same time. "Just open it, Smartass," he growled.

Emily grinned and laid the file in her lap. She noted it was labeled with just the letter 'E' and that it was somewhat thick. Slowly she turned back the cover and let out a gasp of surprise.

"Those are the drawings Jack and Henry made for you over the past five months," he volunteered, watching her unfold each one carefully, her eyes glistening with the hint of emotion that each imaginative creation evoked.

"JJ and I told the boys that we would send them to you. They were worried that you might be homesick and they wanted to cheer you up. I didn't know where you were living so I kept them in my office waiting for the day I could give them to you. I wanted you to have them so if the boys asked about getting them you wouldn't be surprised."

As she flipped through the layers of drawings her hand stopped when she felt the thicker texture of a card. She pulled it loose and set the sheets aside to focus on the brightly colored Mothers Day card. Her heart jumped to her throat and barely read the greeting before she had it unfolded. Almost illegible scribbles of admiration were rounded out with a perfectly written autograph. Jack. She felt the warm tears cascade down her cheek. She didn't care. She hadn't felt the warmth of unconditional love in months.

Hotch sat back silently taking it in. Usually Emily could keep her emotions in check but these last months had put severe cracks in her ability to control them. As the emotions washed over her he decided that he should step out and give her some space to deal with them properly.

He made a move to get up from the chair. "Would you like me to leave you alone for a few minutes?"

"No. Stay." She wiped at the tears. "I'm good."

"You sure?" he asked, sinking back down. Silently he held out the tissue box.

"I am," she said with half a laugh. She took a tissue and finished wiping her cheeks. "Thank you for keeping these for me. I love them."

"You're welcome."

"It looks like Jack enjoys drawing. He is very good at it. I noticed how he works so hard to get the details right."

Hotch smiled. "He got that from Haley. I can barely draw a stick figure."

Emily chuckled. "JJ brought me a couple of his drawings while I was in the hospital. One was of Sergio and the other was what I thought at the time was a sunburned raccoon but now I know it was of a red panda."

"Speaking of pandas. Out of curiosity, why did you name it Rossi?" He nodded at Rossi Jr.

Emily looked over at the panda on the bed. "Actually Jack did," she said. "It kept him busy while I tried to find a way to get him out."

"You might want to consider renaming him."

"Why?"

"It's causing some confusion. Every time someone asks about Rossi, Dave isn't sure if they are talking about him or Rossi Jr. there."

"Oh," she said in puzzled voice. "I guess I could call him RJ. Make it easier on poor Dave. Can't have him wandering around confused. He may appear gruff on the outside but on the inside he is a cuddly…"

"Don't say it, Emily," Hotch warned.

Emily grinned wickedly. "On the inside he is a cuddly red panda."

* * *

><p><em>Sorry to those who love cliffhangers, I'm all out of them. For now. Hee hee. See everyone next week and thanks for the reviews!<em>


	19. Chapter 19

_Surprise! Yes, I am early. Life is again interferring in my posting schedule. So enjoy the early gift._

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><p>After Hotch had left to fetch Jack, Emily continued to browse through the rest of the drawings. Each touched her in a unique way that was going to make it hard to pick out her favorites. She loved them all. Knowing it wouldn't be long before Hotch returned, she reluctantly tucked the drawings back into the file. Grabbing the forearm crutch the doctor had ordered her to use whenever she was on her feet, she used it to level herself up and drag her uncooperative hip back to the bed. As much as she detested using the crutch, it did make her feel steadier on her feet and less dependent on the nursing staff to move from one spot to the next.<p>

Before settling back into bed she pulled open the drawer on the nightstand and set the file inside so that Jack wouldn't see it when he came. She closed the drawer, hesitated and reopened it. Emily shuffled through the drawings until she found the Mother's Day card. She left it in the drawer but sitting on top of the file by itself. She would have to find a special spot for it when she went home. Wait. She didn't have a home to go to, her apartment was long gone. Oh well, she'll find the perfect place for the card wherever she ends up, be it here in Washington D.C. or somewhere else. She eased onto the bed and used her hand to pull the bum leg up and in. Covering up with the blanket, she closed her eyes, sank back against the pillows and nodded off.

* * *

><p>Hotch and Jack stepped off the elevator. Hand in hand they walked down the corridor, Jack clutching to his chest a large homemade 'Get Well' drawing that he had spent the last couple of days working hard to get it just right.<p>

"Now do you remember everything we talked about?" Hotch asked, looking down at his son.

"Uh huh," Jack said nodding vigorously. "We can't stay long cause Em'ly still gets tired quickly and if she lets me hug her I have to be real gentle like I was with Millie's puppies."

"And?"

Jack scrunched up his face thinking hard. "I can't remember," he admitted in defeat.

"Use your inside voice. No yelling in the hospital."

"Right. No yelling cause other people might be trying to sleep."

Hotch tousled his son's hair fondly as they stopped outside of Emily's room. "Why don't you go ahead and knock."

"Why? The door is open."

"Because it is the polite thing to do. One should always announce themselves first before entering a room."

"Huh?"

Hotch sighed. "Jack, just knock and wait for Emily to invite us in."

"Okay, Daddy," he beamed. He raised his small fist and pounded on the open door.

Emily awoke just in time to overhear the tail end of Hotch's talk with Jack. His innocence brought a smile to her lips. She waited for a few seconds to pass after the knock before saying, "Come in."

The two Hotchner men enter the room. One was calm and collected as always. The other was struggling to control the urge to bound into the room and up on the bed, shouting out her name as loud as he could. But he had promised not to yell and to wait for permission to climb onto the bed.

"Hi, Em'ly," he said, coming to stand next to the bed with his hands behind his back and grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat.

"Hey, Jack," she said in greeting. "It's good to see you again." She could see that he was hiding something behind his back and judging from the way he was bouncing up and down he was dying to give whatever it was to her.

"You too." He cocked his head to one side. "Boy, your face sure looks bad," he blurted out.

Hotch's eyes bulged in shock. "Jack!" he hissed. "We don't say things like that. I'm so sorry, Emily," he hastily apologized.

Emily laughed and waved her hand dismissively. "It's alright, Hotch. I've seen myself and I know it is not a pretty picture."

"But still…"

She ignored him and winked at Jack who was now looking ashamed. "In a few days time these two black eyes of mine will be even more colorful. All shades of blue, green and yellow."

"Really?" he asked in awe.

"Really. Come back next week and see for yourself."

"Can we, Daddy?" Jack looked up at his father hopefully.

"Sure, Buddy," Hotch said with a small sigh of resignation. Emily looked at him with two shiners full of mischief.

"You're incorrigible," he said to her.

"So I've been told."

"What's in-corgi-bode?" The two adults looked at him and chuckled.

"Never you mind." Hotch rubbed the top of his son's head. "Don't you have something?" he prompted.

"Oh!" Jack exclaimed, the light bulb popping on in his head. "I made this for you." His hand whipped out from behind his back and thrust at her a big piece of construction paper folded in half.

"Why thank you, Jack." She scooted to one side of the bed and patted the empty space next to her. "Come sit by me and we'll look at it together."

Jack looked back at his father who nodded his consent. With a grin he scrambled up and plopped down next to her. He unfolded it and held it open for her. He had printed in large, block letters along the top of the sheet 'GET WELL SOON!' and filled each one with a different color of glitter. Below were multi-colored balloons that he had made and cut out. Each was carefully glued to the paper and had a matching piece of ribbon for its string. Next he had drawn a group of animals to hold the balloons. Each was smiling and wearing a party hat.

Emily pointed to the cat. "Sergio?" Jack nodded. Then she pointed to what she now knew was a red panda "RJ?"

"Who?" he asked looking puzzled.

"Oh, sorry. Rossi. I had to change his name slightly. Apparently we were confusing Uncle Dave."

"That's okay," he said. "I like RJ too." He ran his fingers over the drawing. "I can see Uncle Dave getting confused. He is old after all."

Emily repressed a smile. "If I were you, I wouldn't let Uncle Dave hear you say that," she confided in him.

"Why?"

She looked at Hotch, who was still standing, for support. He gave her the 'you said it, I didn't' look.

"Ah…just don't do it. Trust me on this, Jack."

"Okay," Jack said, not giving it another thought.

"Hotch, you're hovering. Sit down," she said to her boss.

"Sorry." He sat quickly in the chair and Emily nodded her thanks.

She turned her attention back to Jack's work of art. In addition to the balloons, he had covered the sheet with dozens of stick on stars. But it was what he had carefully written at the bottom that almost choked her up. 'I missed you. Love, Jack.' Emily vowed that she would not cry again. Doing it once if front of Hotch was embarrassing enough. Twice would be humiliating.

Successfully fighting back the tears Emily wrapped her good arm around Jack's shoulder and gave him a hug. "I love it, Sweetie. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Em'ly," Jack said beaming with pride. "Are you going to hang it up?" He looked at the get well cards decorating the wall.

"Of course I am. As soon as your daddy finds some tape." She pointed to a spot on the wall. "I going to hang there so that it is the first one I see in the morning."

"Cool." Jack turned to his father. "Daddy? Why aren't you getting the tape?"

Hotch blinked and hopped out of the chair. "Right. Tape." He gestured to the door. "I'll check at the nurse's station."

Emily smiled. "You do that. Meanwhile Jack and I are going to chat about what he has been up to these last five months."

"No problem." Hotch got the hint that Emily wanted a little alone time with Jack. Smiling he went off in search of tape and coffee.

"So," Emily said, looking at the little boy. "Did you get to play soccer this year?"

"You remembered," Jack crowed in delight.

"I did," she said, smiling fondly. "Now, did you?"

"Uh huh."

Emily pulled him in tighter to her side and he gently wrapped his arm around her waist. "Tell me all about it."

* * *

><p>The rest of the week settled into a comfortable routine. Members of the team would come in ones or twos and spend several hours hanging out with her. Emily was content to sit back and listen to her friends talk, only speaking up to keep the conversation moving. On the few occasions when the subject of her forced exile came up, Emily deftly maneuvered the conversation away from her and back to whomever she was chatting with. Her friends immediately noticed her unwillingness to confide in them about that painful period in her life and as a group decided to let the matter drop. They assumed that when she was ready she would talk about it. But Emily wasn't planning on ever being ready. She simply wanted to lock it in the deepest recess of her mind and throw away the key. Unfortunately the memories were reluctant to let her forget causing the nightmares to return.<p>

It was also during this time that Emily started her campaign to get out of her room. She wasn't claustrophobic but after staring at the same walls for days on end, the room seemed to be growing smaller. She had to get out. Emily started pestering the staff and the doctor every time she saw them. After three days of non-stop hounding Dr. Barrett finally gave in or at least she appeared to give in. The good doctor was already planning to do so but she was curious to see how far Emily could push it. So on the first day of her second week, Emily was up and slowly limping around the eighth floor and she took full advantage of her new found freedom. The team quickly learned to look for her in one of three places: her room, the corridors or the lounge at the end of one.

On this particular day Rossi found her hobbling along the hallway.

"Hey, Kiddo," he said, coming up behind her and lightly touching her on her sling enclosed elbow.

Emily recoiled as if a flame hot poker had just burned her. She stumbled into the wall, her hand releasing the grip of the crutch to clutch at the railing. Her breath coming out in short gasps.

"God, I'm sorry, Emily," Rossi said hastily. He reached out to steady her only to have her shrink away from his hands. As he pulled them back he saw the terror in her eyes. _She's afraid of me_, he thought and moved back a couple of steps to give her some space. In those few seconds it took to step back the terror was replaced with her convenient mask of calm composure.

"Dave, you surprised me," she said, giving him a quick smile that did not reach those once fear full eyes. On the outside Emily struggled to appear calm but on the inside her heart pounded in her chest and she had to fight off the instinct to flee.

He arched an eyebrow at her choice of words. Surprised? More like terrified. _What did Doyle do to you?_ "I didn't mean too," he apologized.

"That's okay." She glanced briefly at him, gave another quick smile and looked away. Her hand was still clutching at the handrail with a white-knuckle grip. An uneasy silence hung between the two friends.

"Planning on making a run for it?" he joked, hoping to ease the tension surrounding them.

"I wish," she snorted, still refusing to look at him. "Someone tattled on me and they watch me like a hawk every time I step out of my room." She finally turned back and rewarded him with a genuine smile. "You should see how they perk up whenever I get near the elevators."

Dave laughed. Emily was well known for her intense dislike of hospitals and her tendency to sign out against medical advice. Apparently Dr. Barrett was keeping a close eye on her patient and not letting Emily ride roughshod over her. Military doctors must be made of tougher stuff to be able to repel a force by the like of Emily Prentiss.

Emily released her death grip on the railing as her breathing slowed and her heartbeat returned to normal. She berated herself for letting Rossi sneak up on her like that and then for letting him see her acting like a scared little child. She was stronger and tougher than that. She had to show that side to her team so that they would see that she was fine. That she had overcome what Doyle had done to her and was moving on. Only then would they stop worrying about her.

"Penny for your thoughts."

"Huh?" She snapped back to reality. She hadn't realized that she had let her mind wander.

"Looked like you were miles away."

She let out a halfhearted laugh. "I guess I was."

"Anything you want to share?"

"Nope," she said firmly with a shake of her head.

Dave studied her for a moment still amazed, after all these years he had worked with her, how quickly she could scurry behind those walls of self preservation. It was then he noticed something else was off with her. Not mentally but physically off.

"Emily, what happened to your nose?"

Instinctively she touched her bandaged nose. "It rather embarrassing," she said sheepishly.

"Let me be the judge of that."

"I woke up in the middle of night to use the bathroom," she lied. It hadn't been the urge to go to the bathroom that had driven her from her bed; it had been a particularly bad nightmare that she had tried to flee in her half awaken state. No way in hell was she ever going to let anyone know about the nightmares.

She continued. "I was half asleep and forgot where I was or that I needed my crutch," she said truthfully. "I stood up, took a step and next thing I know I'm on the floor with blood running down face."

Dave winched in sympathy. "So you used your nose to break your fall."

"I did."

"Is it broken?"

"No. Just badly bruised and swollen. It will be as good a new in a couple of weeks with the rest of me."

"That's good."

"And you know what the worse part of the whole thing?" she asked him. "I ended up taking a midnight trip down to X-Ray to take new pictures of my ribs, hand and shoulder to make sure I didn't do any additional damage to them."

"Did you?" he asked.

Emily shook her head. "Nope. Everything seems to be healing well. The only thing I didn't get the rest of the night was sleep."

Spotting an opening to a conversation he wanted to have with her, he said casually, "Speaking of sleep. Have you given any thought to where you will be staying after you have been sprung from this joint?"

She blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Not really," she hedged. "My apartment as you know is gone but that is all right with me. Doyle tainted it." She gazed down the corridor. "I guess I'll stay at a hotel or my Mother's house. She's in Albania so the place is empty."

"By yourself? Are you sure that is wise?" Rossi asked, obviously concerned.

Her eyes blazed with annoyance. "I can take care of myself," she snapped.

Dave held up his hands in an attempt to placate her. "I never said you couldn't. What I was trying to get at is that it might be a good idea to have someone around in case you may need some help."

Emily pressed her lips into a thin line and stared down at her feet. "What do you suggest I do, Rossi? Stay with you?" she grumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes."

Her eyes shot up. "What?" she asked in bewilderment. That was not the answer she had been expecting.

"Stay at my place, Emily. I got plenty of room."

"You're serious," she said still slightly stunned. His generosity knocked her off balance.

"I am. I have a nice guest room with its own bath and it overlooks the garden. You'll have run of the place. I'll been there to lend a hand only when you ask for it. Otherwise I'll keep out of your hair." His eyes twinkled. "The best part will be the finest Italian meals I will get to fix for you."

One look at his face told her how serious he was. She didn't know what to say. It was sweet of to offer but she didn't like feeling beholden to anyone especially her friends. It always felt like pity to her. So she decided to do what she did best in this type of situation: she tried to retreat.

"I couldn't impose," she said with a shake of her head and took a couple of steps back.

Dave stopped himself from following. Now was not the time to intrude on her personal space. "It's not an imposition if you are invited and this is an invitation," he countered her argument smoothly.

"Dave…" she hemmed.

He shook his head. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

She blew out a breath of frustration. "Yes," she said reluctantly. "Only until I find a place of my own," she added hastily.

Rossi smiled. "Works for me."

"You'll probably regret it later. I can be difficult to live with."

"Never. Do you want to continue on your walk or head back to your room?"

"My walk. I had just started when I got sidetracked."

"May I accompany you?" Dave asked politely, stepping to her left side offering her his arm.

Emily eyed the proffered arm warily. She again quelled the urge to run. "You may," she said with a smile and slipped her arm through his. Rossi took the crutch in his other hand.

He nodded down the corridor. "This way?"

"Yes," she confirmed and they started off.

Dave smiled to himself while Emily focused on placing one foot in front of the other. _Two battles fought and won and many more to come with this extremely stubborn and fiercely independent woman known as Emily Prentiss._

* * *

><p>As the saying goes 'all good things must come to an end' so did her daily visits from the team. Strauss had put them back on active duty and they were now winging it to Tempe, Arizona to corral a possible spree killer. They had stopped by on the way to the airport to express their condolences. After silently listening to them apologizing left and right for leaving, she told them to shut up and get on the damn plane.<p>

Emily assured them that she understood. She did. That she would be fine and that she wasn't going anywhere. She wasn't unless the hospital suddenly burned down. If she wanted to chat all she had to do was pick up the phone and dial. She wouldn't. And finally that she preferred them out chasing bad and guys and saving people's lives than sitting here shooting the breeze with her. The team unwilling said their goodbyes each promising to call when they had a chance. Emily said she would like that. She did.

Now with the team out of town for three or more days, Emily finally had enough time on her hands to take care of the one thing she had been putting off since returning to the states. Thinking about her future. Was she still part of the Bureau? She highly doubted she was. But on the off chance she was, did she want to remain with the FBI? If she did, would she like to stay in the BAU or transfer to another division? That question hinged on if the team wanted her back. She knew where she stood with them personally: they were delighted to have her back. Professionally she was unsure of. Would they want to work with her and would they trust her enough to watch their backs?

If she did request a transfer, would it be to another department with Quantico or should she ask for a field office? Now if she chose to leave the Bureau, should she try for another federal job? Would it be better if she packed up her meager belongings and moving away to some place where no one knew who she was or about her checkered past? Would starting over be the best fit for her? All where legitimate questions that required answers. Each one she had to consider very carefully. Whatever path she chose to follow would have a dramatic effect not only on her life but on the lives of her friends.

* * *

><p><em>Wow! Emily sure does have a lot of questions to answer. Stay tune to find out what path she chooses to follow.<em>


	20. Chapter 20

_Hello everyone. Once again it is Tuesday. Almost said Friday and I don't have a clue why. Well this here is the second to last chapter of the story. Glad you all have been enjoying it and sticking with me. So deeply appreciated on many levels. Now I shall shut up and let you dig in. Have fun._

* * *

><p>It was a beautiful summer day. Crisp blue skies dotted with fluffy white clouds. The temps were in the low eighties without a lick of humidity in the air. It was the perfect day to sit in the shade under the boughs of an ancient oak with an entertaining book and a glass of good wine. Emily sighed deeply looking longingly out through the hospital room's window, chin resisting in the cup of her hand. If she had her way, she would be outside enjoying the feeling of the sun on her face, not stuck inside gazing out.<p>

"This sucks."

"What sucks, Em'ly?"

Emily's head whipped around to find Jack Hotchner standing innocently by her chair.

"Sweetie, how did you get here?" she asked, glancing around the room and finding it empty except for the two of them.

He jerked a thumb at the door. "Aunt Jess brought me. She was right behind me," he said, his eyes glued to the bandage on her nose. He was dying to ask what she did but he remembered the warning he got when he had mentioned her face before so he kept his mouth shut. Instead he repeated, "What sucks, Em'ly?"

_Geez, did I just teach Hotch's son a new swear word? _She thought. _I hope not otherwise he's going to kill me. _She smiled. "Oh, that it looks like a beautiful day outside and here I am cooped up inside."

"Why don't you go out?"

She sighed. "Because they won't let me."

"Why not?" he asked, forehead puckered in puzzlement.

"They're afraid I'll run away."

Jack's eyes widen. "Would you?" he breathed.

"In a heartbeat," she said with a snap of her fingers and Jack giggled. "So what brings you by, Jack?"

"With Aaron and the team away on a case, Jack here thought you might be lonely," Jessica supplied from the doorway where she had been observing them. She came up to her nephew and ran her fingers through his sandy brown hair. "Jack, honey, could you go wait in the hallway? I would like to have a quick chat with Agent Prentiss."

"Okay."

"And stay where I can see you and don't touch anything," she called out to his departing back.

When Jack was gone, she turned to Emily. "I'm Jack's Aunt, Jessica." She started to extend her right hand then quickly switched to the left when she saw the sling on Emily's right.

Emily shook hands. "I remember. We met briefly at Haley's funeral and please call me Emily."

"Emily," she acknowledged and took a seat in the other chair. She rested her hands in her lap. "I wanted to personally thank you for saving Jack."

Uncomfortable, Emily looked away and absently started to run her hand along the sling. "There's no need to thank me. If I had done my job properly the first time, Jack never would have been taken."

"What you did nor did not do in your past is of no concern of mine. What is important is that you came back, regardless of your safety, to rescue my nephew." It was Jessica's turn to look away. "I had already lost Haley. I don't know what I would have done if I had lost Jack too. Thank you."

Emily leaned forward and placed her hand on Jessica's. "You're welcome," she said sincerely and with a nod.

The two women smiled at each other, knowing each loved that little boy. Jessica would have no trouble sharing him with Emily. Jack would benefit from both of them.

Suddenly there was a loud crash out in the hallway. "Oh dear," Jessica swore, jumping up. "What has he gotten into?"

She dashed out and a few seconds later a red face Jack sidled in.

Emily cocked an eyebrow and restrained herself from laughing. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, peering nervously at the door. "I didn't touch it. It just fell over by itself. Honest."

"Uh huh." She couldn't resist smiling.

He fidgeted in place before blurting out, "I brought some games to play. If you want to."

"I love games. What did you bring?"

"A whole bunch: Uno, Candyland, Sorry…" he rattled off.

"Sorry is my favorite."

"Cool. We can play it first," he said excitedly.

"All right. I'm pretty good," she teased.

"Me too," he said returning the challenge.

"Why don't we go out to the garden and play it there?" Jessica asked, entering the room with a wheelchair.

A slow smile spread over Emily's face. "How did you get them to say yes?" she asked, excited at the prospect of going outside.

"It was rather easy. Aaron said you would probably be going stir crazy about now and when you did you would start annoying the staff. So I simply offered to get you out of their hair for a couple of hours. They readily agreed on one condition."

"What was that?" Emily asked warily.

"That I don't let you out of my sight for one second," she said with a laugh.

"Anything to get out of this room," Emily agreed with Jack quietly snickering.

"Jack!" Jessica called out. He immediately clammed up thinking he was about to get a lecture. "Please fetch Emily's slippers while I help her on with her robe. If that is alright with you?" She asked quickly, remembering that Aaron had mentioned that Emily could be extremely stubborn in regards to doing things for herself.

"It is." Emily slowly got to her feet and let Jessica help slide her left arm through the sleeve and drape the right side over her bad shoulder. Jessica then stepped back and let Emily settle into the wheelchair on her own. Jack popped up with the slippers and with a big grin helped her put them on.

"All set?" Jessica asked while shouldering the bag of games.

"Yes," Emily said and then turned to Jack. "Do you want to ride or push?"

"Push," he said without hesitation. He hurried behind the wheelchair and grabbed the handholds.

Emily pointed to the door. "Home, James," she intoned in a posh voice.

Jack paused. "Em'ly. My name is Jack, not James."

* * *

><p>That evening Emily had just settled in for a night of mindless reruns when Garcia breezed in like a breath of fresh air. "Evening, Emily the Strange and Great."<p>

Emily glanced at the clock on the wall. "You're here rather late. Shouldn't you be hibernating in your lair helping the team?"

"They caught Mr. Creepy Pants this evening," she said, flopping down at the foot of the bed. "So I thought I would come hang out with you."

"The team is on their way home?"

"Nope. They're stuck in Tempe. Engine problems."

"That sucks."

"It does. Heard it's hotter than Hades there," Garcia said with a chuckle. She grabbed the rolling table and pulled it over. She placed a large Styrofoam cup and box on it. "I kind of figured you had poked at your dinner tonight so I stopped at Maxine's Deli and picked up for you a chicken salad sandwich and cream of broccoli soup. I made sure that there wasn't anything spicy in either because of your…never mind."

Emily's eyes narrowed. "Never mind what?" she pressed.

"You're…you know," Garcia said vaguely, wishing she had never brought it up.

Then it dawned on her. "My ulcer. Penelope, have you been poking around my medical records?"

Garcia looked and felt guilty. "Only a real teeny tiny bit," she demonstrated with her index finger and thumb. "I only wanted to make sure that there nothing the doctor was holding back," she finished lamely.

Emily closed her eyes and slowly counted to ten twice in French to stop herself from saying something that she would later regret. Meanwhile Garcia shifted uneasily at the end of the bed.

When Emily opened her eyes again, she was calm and in control. She poked the analyst with her foot under the blanket. "Penelope, the ulcer stays between us. The team does not need to know. Got it?"

"Loud and clear. I'm sorry, Em. I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

Emily could see how upset she was. "I'm not angry. Just a little annoyed." She gave her a more playful push with her foot. "I'm over it anyways." She popped the lid off the soup. "This does smell good," she observed.

She picked up the spoon and dug in while Garcia looked on, pleased that she was enjoying the food and that she was no longer in hot water with her friend.

Without warning Garcia's hand was pressed firmly against Emily's forehead causing her to wince in pain when the tech's fingers grazed the stitched up gash. "Em, are you all right?" she asked worriedly. "You're face is a little red."

"What?"

"Oh, God!" You're warm!" Are you running a fever? I better get a nurse." Garcia franticly searched for the call button. "It could be a sign of infection or something worse. Here it is," she said with a sigh of relief, reeling in the remote.

Emily chuckled. "Relax, Penelope. It's probably a little sunburn."

Garcia paused with her finger hovering over the button. "Sunburn?" she asked in disbelief. "How could you get sunburn from overhead lighting?"

"I was outside today for a couple of hours," Emily explained between spoonfuls.

"Outside?" Garcia screeched, dropping the remote like a hot potato. "You got outside? They're supposed to be watching you. When I get a hold of them…"

"Aha!" Emily exclaimed, slamming the spoon down on the table causing Garcia to break off in mid sentence and flinch. "You're the one who ratted me out to the staff," she accused her.

Garcia took a step back wringing her hands. "I just wanted you to stay put and rest," she said meekly. "You do have a tendency to sign yourself out before you are ready."

Emily shook her head in wonder. "Penelope Garcia, you are amazing, frustrating and sometimes down right meddlesome at times. Don't ever change, you hear me?"

"I hear you." She inched closer to the bed. "You're not mad at me?" she asked hopefully.

"I could never be mad at you for long because I know you have my best interest at heart." Emily waved the spoon at her. "Now I am officially annoyed so you are going to have to come up with something special to make it up to me."

Garcia's eyes lit up. "I think I do," she said, resettling at the foot of the bed and opening her oversized bag.

"Figures," Emily muttered as she pushed away the empty bowl and grabbed the sandwich box. "You should get a patent on that bottomless bag of yours," she said around a mouthful of chicken salad.

Penelope made a face. "Ha. Ha." Emily smiled as she continued chewing. "A little bird told me you might like this."

"Scrabble!" Emily said in delight as Garcia set the travel size version down on the table. "Did the same little bird tell you I'm really good at this?"

"She did," Garcia said with a grin. "So I came prepared." She pulled out a scrabble dictionary the size of a large tome.

"Wow," Emily exclaimed. "You couldn't find a bigger one?"

Garcia merely smiled and started flipping over tiles. "Be prepared for an ass whupping, Emily Prentiss."

"Bring it on, Penelope Garcia. It will be you and not me who will be bleeding all over the board when this is done."

* * *

><p>"Agent Prentiss!"<p>

The voice resonated down the corridor and froze Emily in her tracks. Her shoulders hunched and she grimaced. "Oh shit," she muttered under her breath. "Please don't be her. Please don't be her."

Slowly she shuffled around while plastering the fakest smile she could on her face. She also thanked her lucky stars that she was wearing the solid blue pajamas instead of the pair with the cats on it.

"Ma'am," she said, trying to keep a hint of disrespect out of it and failing miserably.

Erin Strauss did not seem to notice as she briskly marched down the corridor. "The nurse on duty told me I would find you here."

_So this is how they get their revenge_, she thought. _They sic the Dragon lady on me. _"Just out for my morning constitutional," she said casually when Strauss had reached her side.

"How are you doing, Agent Prentiss?"

"I'm healing."

"That is good." Strauss looked around the corridor. "Is there some place we could talk more privately?"

Emily gestured with the crutch. "There is a lounge at the end. You can wait for me there. At my current pace I should be there in ten minutes."

"If you don't mind I would like to walk with you."

"Not at all," Emily said through gritted teeth. She made it to the lounge in five.

Emily eased into a chair by the windows while Strauss chose one directly across from her. She rested the crutch against the chair and stopped herself from rubbing the hip she had just over exerted. Strauss was not going to see any weakness in her.

"What would you like to talk about, Ma'am," Emily asked, getting directly to the point.

Strauss sat back in her chair and studied her carefully. She appeared calm and composed, at least, on the surface but how emotionally scarred was she underneath? Only time would tell.

"Not going to waste any time beating around the bush are you, Agent Prentiss?" she asked drolly.

"No, Ma'am. And it is Emily. I'm no longer an agent."

Strauss leaned forward, crossed her legs and rested her folded hands on her knee. "Actually you are. For the first three months you were on medical leave and for the remainder you were on an unpaid leave of absence. And according to the Director you have been on active duty from the moment you stepped onto American soil."

Emily blinked in surprise. "That is good to hear." Well that was one question she no longer needed an answer for.

"Must be nice to have a patron among the higher ups," Strauss said coyly.

"I wouldn't know, Ma'am," she replied blandly.

Strauss gave her a knowing smile. "Agent Prentiss, have you given any thought to your future plans?"

She actually had given it a lot of thought over the last couple of days but she wasn't going to let Strauss know that. The only person she would talk to about her future was Hotch. Her decision would have a direct impact on him and the rest of the team. Strauss wouldn't give a damn if she left or stayed.

"No, Ma'am. I've been focused on getting better so that I can get out of here and back home," she lied smoothly.

"That is understandable. Did you know your position in the BAU is still open?"

"No, I did not."

"Well it is. Agent Hotchner has been stonewalling me for months in regards to filling your position and now I know why. He's been waiting for you to return and you have. How convenient."

Emily said nothing. She simply sat still and gazed at Strauss unblinking.

"It's yours if you want it, Agent Prentiss."

"Thank you, Ma'am. May I have some time to decide? I have to weigh all of my options."

"Of course." Strauss stood and straightened her skirt. "But don't take too long. I can't hold it open indefinitely."

"Understood."

"It's good to see you up on your feet."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Take care."

"I will."

Strauss took a few steps away before turning back to Emily. "Agent Prentiss, would you like to know my opinion?"

"Certainly," Emily said even though she really didn't.

"You need the team and the team needs you."

That said she turned and headed for the elevators leaving in her wake a stunned Emily. _Did Strauss just give me her approval? I think she did. _She shuddered at the thought. Uneasy she bit her lip and looked out the window. That was the crux of her dilemma: did the team really need her?

* * *

><p>Hotch was just tucking his toiletries into his go bag when the phone rang. He scooped it off the off the dresser, looked at the display and sighed. Strauss. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her today. The case and engine delay had made him a grumpy man. He just wanted to get home and unwind with Jack.<p>

He sat on the bed and put the phone to his ear. "Chief Strauss," he greeted her.

"_Agent Hotchner,"_ she said in return. _Are you and your team on your way back?"_

"Almost. We will be leaving for the airport in thirty minutes."

"_Excellent."_

"Is there something I can help you with, Ma'am?" Hotch asked, hoping to move her along so that he wouldn't have to delay the departure. He knew everyone was as eager as he was to get home.

"_Yes. We need to discuss Agent Prentiss."_

"Certainly."

"_I stopped by the hospital this morning to see her."_

_Oh, Emily must have loved that, _he thought smiling to himself. "How is she?" he asked.

"_She's looking better than the last time I visited. I found her walking the halls."_

Hotch smiled. "That's where you'll find her most days."

"_When is she going to be released from the hospital?"_

"Unless the doctor finds something during the examination to keep her for a few extra days it should be this Friday."

"_So two more days."_

"Yes, Ma'am."

"_Does Agent Prentiss have a place to stay afterwards?"_

"Yes. Agent Rossi has graciously offered Prentiss the use of his guest suite and she has accepted." He didn't mention that Dave almost had to twist Emily's good arm to get her to say yes.

"_Have you discussed with her what her future plans may be?"_

Hotch frowned. "No, Ma'am, I haven't. I've been waiting until she was back on her feet before broaching the subject with her."

"_Well, I have," _Strauss smugly said. _"I informed her that her position was still available and offered it to her."_

_Wonderful. Just wonderful. She doesn't leave it to me to do, _he thought grimly. "What was her response?"

"_Agent Prentiss requested some time to consider the offer."_

"I see."

"_I may not be an expert on reading human behavior like you, Agent Hotchner, but I did sense some hesitation on her part."_

"You have?"

"_Yes. I believe her hesitation to accept can be attributed to not knowing where the team stands in regard to her return."_

"What would you like me to do?"

"_You need to discuss this situation with the team immediately. Agent Prentiss needs to know so that she can make an informed decision."_

"I will once we are in the air," he said, for once in agreement with her.

"_Excellent. Agent Hotchner, let me know what the team decides."_

"I shall."

"_Have a safe flight."_

"Thank you, Ma'am," he said and hung up.

He remained sitting on the bed staring at the phone in his hand. This was not the way he pictured the flight home to be like. He had been planning on a nice mindless ride with nothing on his mind but what to do with Jack but that hope just went out the window. Instead he was going to have to have a tough conversation that he was unprepared for. He already knew his answer. He wanted Emily back. The team wasn't the same without her. They still functioned well as a unit but the camaraderie was missing. He was pretty sure he knew what their responses would be but he has been surprised before. Five months can change a lot of things.

* * *

><p><em>Well? Do you think the team will surprise Hotch with their answers? And what will be Emily's final decision? I know and I'm not telling. You will just have to check in next week for the conclusion. Till then.<em>


	21. Chapter 21

_Well here we are. The last chapter. Before you all starting reading I just want to thank everyone who have reviewed and stuck with this story from day one. It has meant a lot to me. I have to send out a special thank you to RJ Russell and kp4377 for allowing me to use them as sounding boards and for the suggestions they gave to fix some minor holes. Without their help I don't think the story would have been as good. Now enjoy._

* * *

><p>"Before everyone gets comfortable, we need to have a discussion," Hotch informed the team after the pilot had announced that they were free to move about the cabin. They exchanged puzzled looks but gathered together at the back of the plane.<p>

"JJ, could you ask Garcia to join us?" he asked the blonde.

"Sure."

Within in minutes the puzzled face of the technical analyst appeared on the monitor.

Hotch took a deep breath and plunged in. "We need to talk about Emily and what her future role with us might be."

"Isn't that up to Emily?" Morgan asked.

"It is," Hotch agreed. "But this morning Strauss dropped by the hospital to see her."

"That should have made Emily's day," Dave said drolly.

"I'm sure it did," Hotch said with a small smile. "Strauss offered Emily her old job back."

"What did she say?" Reid asked in a voice tinged with worry.

Hotch looked at each one of them. "Emily asked for some time to think it over. Strauss believes, and I concur, that Emily is hesitating because she is unsure if we want her back on the team."

"That's ridiculous," JJ huffed.

He held up his hand. "It may seem like that to us but to Emily it is very real. We need to let her know how we feel so that she can make the right decision for herself."

"Even if it means she leaves?" Reid swallowed heavily.

"Yes, even if she chooses to go. We'll have to convey to her that we will support her in which path she chooses to follow."

He paused to watch the team absorb what he had just said. A wide range of emotions flirted across their from disbelief on Garcia's to simmering anger on Morgan's.

"I have to point out a few things before I ask for your opinions. The Emily we knew before Doyle is gone. We can never get her back. The last five months have intrinsically changed Emily just like it has changed us. We cannot simply pick up from where we had left off. We can only move forward and try to get to know the new Emily."

"And it won't be easy," he continued. "We all know that she is suffering from PTSD even though she is not admitting to it yet. In the up coming months she is going to have good days and bad days," he said, speaking from experience. "And some of those bad days are going to be hard not just on her but also on us. Are all of you prepared to deal with that?"

"If yes then you must also be prepared for the long siege. Right now Emily has completely retreated behind her walls that are now higher and thicker than before. But they are also riddled with cracks and could crumble at any time. Will you be able to handle what comes pouring out?"

Hotch paused again and looked from face to face. "I am. I'll be there ready to lend a helping hand when she finally asks for help. It's just a few things I wanted you to consider before giving me your answers."

"I don't need to think about, Sir," Garcia piped up immediately. "Em is family and family sticks with each other through thick and thin, the good and the bad, feast and famine…"

"I got it, Penelope," Hotch said with a smile. "You're in."

"Damn tooting I am."

"JJ?" he asked, turning to the blonde profiler.

"I want her back," she said flatly.

Hotch nodded and turned to Rossi. Dave cocked an eyebrow and said, "Do you even need to ask, Aaron?"

"I guess not. Derek?"

Morgan looked up from his hands. "I have no problem with Emily rejoining the team. I'm already looking forward to having her at my side and watching my back. What I do have a problem with is how the whole situation was handled."

Hotch nodded. "I understand. We'll deal with that issue as well. I'm sure you are not the only one." Finally he turned to the young genius. "Spencer?"

Reid looked at him with a pained expression. "I miss her."

"That a yes?" Hotch asked and the young man nodded. "Then it is unanimous," he announced with a broad smile. "We will ask Emily to stay with us. I knew you wouldn't disappoint me."

"Woohoo!" Garcia shouted over the computer, clapping her hands in delight. "We need to tell our lost sheep the moment you guys land." Her eyes grew wide. "Oh! Oh! Oh! I know. We can throw Mighty Miss Em a 'Welcome Back' party." She grabbed a post it note and started scribbling furiously. "We'll need a banner, balloons, streamers…"

Chuckling, Morgan reached over and tapped the screen. "Baby Girl," he said and when she didn't look up he called out again. "Penelope!"

"What?" She blinked at him confused.

"Let's keep it simple, shall we?" He looked around at the group. "Some delicious food and fine wine?"

"Sweet Cheeks, you know our Em can't drink alcohol while she is on pain meds," she scolded him gently.

"Sparkling cider then."

"That works," she agreed. "Oh and make sure whatever food you pick up isn't spicy. It will upset…" Garcia broke off, realizing she had almost spilled the beans about Emily's ulcer.

Morgan caught the slip. "Upset what?" he asked.

"My stomach," she said quickly. "It's been off the last couple of days."

"Okay," he drawled. "No spicy food." He could see the visible relief on her face.

"Great. Garcia out." She cut the feed and vanished from sight.

"Should we tell her together as a group?" JJ asked.

"No. Lets not overwhelm her," Hotch said decisively. "Let me talk to Emily first. She should hear it from me since I am her boss after all."

* * *

><p>After Strauss had left, Emily tried to resume her walk thinking it would calm her. It didn't. Her mind kept replaying the conversation. When she found herself constantly stumbling she deemed it was safer to return to her room. There she tried to distract herself with reading, television and taking a nap. None of them worked. Her brain kept repeating Strauss' opinion over and over like a broken record. Frustration eventually drove her to her feet and back out into the hallways to pace. The nursing staff paid little attention to her having grown use to her haunting the corridors for hours on end.<p>

Eventually she found herself back in the lounge. She collapsed into the nearest chair that happened to be at the table with a half completed jigsaw puzzle spread over its surface. She randomly picked up a puzzle piece and slowly rolled it between her fingers. _My life is like this puzzle. It's been shattered into a thousand pieces. Some of the pieces are part of my old self and some are new. Will I be able to figure out where they are supposed to go and become whole again? Or am I destined to have one or two pieces missing and remain forever incomplete?_

* * *

><p>Hotch stood just outside the lounge watching Emily staring off into space, mindlessly playing with a puzzle piece. The head nurse had told him where to find her and had also confided in him that they were getting a little worried. Apparently Emily had been sitting there for hours looking at nothing, seemingly lost in her head. When they had kindly brought down her dinner she didn't notice their presence.<p>

Slowly he made his way over, heeding Rossi's warning about coming up behind Emily and touching her. He walked around the table to pull out the chair directly across from her. She remained oblivious to his closeness. As he sat he noted the dinner tray was untouched. He picked up a piece and studied it.

"I didn't know you liked jigsaw puzzles."

"Hmmm?" Emily said, blinking several times to bring him into focus. She smiled tiredly when she recognized him. "I'm sorry, Hotch, what did you say?"

"I asked if you if you liked jigsaw puzzles," he repeated, placing the piece in its proper place.

She glanced down at the puzzle as if seeing it for the first time. "Generally I do but it just happened to be the first seat I came upon." Realizing she had a piece in her hand she set it quickly back on the table.

Hotch carefully selected another piece. "I heard you had an interesting visit this morning."

Emily's shoulders sagged and she exhaled loudly. "Strauss called you."

"She did."

"She told you everything?"

"Pretty much." Once the second piece had found its home he folded his hands on the table. "What is stopping you from accepting Strauss' offer?" he asked gently.

Emily shrugged her good shoulder and looked away.

"Emily tell me what is going on in your head," he pressed.

She bit her lip and shook her head.

"Talk to me."

She closed her eyes and bit her lip again. When her eyes reopened they were full with hurt. "I don't think the team wants me back," she whispered.

Hotch remained quiet, letting the silence urge her on.

"I know the team is overjoyed that I am still alive, that I'm not dead and that I am back. But…wanting to hang out with me as a friend is a whole lot different then wanting to work with me."

Emily looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. "I shattered their trust in me by simply walking out that door. My actions have changed the way they look and feel about me." She fell quiet.

"How so?"

She sighed and looked at him, left hand now rubbing the sling. "Reid feels that I abandoned him just like Gideon did. Morgan has been struggling under the heavy guilt of not saving me." _But he did, _she added silently. _He refused to let me go even after I asked him to. _"I've made Garcia so afraid of people vanishing that she's trying to control everything so that they can't."

She paused to take a calming breath. "I laid on JJ the heavy burden of making medical decisions on my behalf and that she had to lie to everyone about what she was doing. I stuck you in an impossible position, forcing you to make decisions no boss should have to make for an employee. Then there's Rossi. He's felt more like my father than my own. I feel I have let him down by not being a good daughter, that I'm not living up to the dreams he had for me."

She sniffed. "I screwed up royally, Hotch. I can't right this wrong."

Hotch wanted to reach over and take her hand in hers but he knew she would recoil from his touch. He could already see her hunching into herself to make herself smaller and less vulnerable, gazing unseeing at the floor.

"Emily, look at me," he said firmly. When she hesitated he repeated it with more force. "Emily, look at me!"

Slowly her pain full eyes came up. "Now listen carefully. You did not screw up. There is no wrong to right. Everyone knows that you were trying to protect us, your family. They are so proud of you. When I posed the question of having you rejoin the team, they all said yes without any hesitation."

"They did?" she whispered.

"The team and I never gave your return a second thought. We want you back. The team hasn't been the same without you." He held up a puzzle piece. "A piece of us was missing. That piece is you, Emily." Hotch placed it in the hole in the middle of the sky filling it in. "You make us complete."

She gazed at the spot he had inserted the puzzle piece. Her back straightened and her hand stilled. She looked up at him.

"You've made your decision," he concluded.

"I have"

"And?"

Emily shook her head. "I have to tell the team. Can you get them over here?"

Hotch smiled. "Shouldn't be too hard. They're lurking just outside of the lounge."

"They are?" Emily turned just in time to see Garcia peeking around the corner.

Hotch waved his hand and the team cautiously entered. They gathered uncertainly around the table. Emily looked up into their eager faces and let hers split into a broad smile, eyes dancing in merriment.

"I'm in."

There was a pause then everyone started talking at once. JJ and Garcia rushed over to give her a hug while Morgan slapped Reid on the back so hard he almost fell over. Rossi nodded his approval.

Morgan clapped his hands together. "Lets get this shindig rolling."

Emily looked up. "Party? What party?"

"Why your welcome back party of course," JJ said, pulling out a table cloth from one of the bags that Emily hadn't seen them carry in and spreading it over the table and the puzzle.

"Geez, you guys, you shouldn't…" she broke off when they all stared. She held up her hand in surrender. "I'll just shut up now."

"That's probably a good idea," JJ chuckled as she set out the dishes and glasses.

Garcia turned to Reid and handed him a foil wrapped pan. "Boy Genius, be a dear and take this down to the nurse's station."

"Why?" he asked.

Garcia rested her hands on her hips. "Because we are thanking them for taking such good care of our Emily and for not tossing her off the roof when she got too annoying."

"Hey!" Emily protested.

Garcia rounded on her. "Did you or did you not pester them to let you start walking?"

"Well…just a little," she hedged.

Penelope smiled smugly. "I rest my case." She gave Reid a shove. "Now shoo or no dessert for you."

When Reid returned from his errand Dave set about serving the meal.

"What we are having?" Emily asked after fending off Garcia's attempt to tuck a napkin under her chin.

"I have prepared for you one of the finest meals you shall ever taste," Rossi said, beaming. "We shall start with a salad of wild arugula with cherry mozzarella cheese and prosciutto. For the main dish we have fresh zucchini and porcini mushroom ravioli with a creamy butter sauce splashed with only the best white truffle oil and for dessert tiramisuo."

From the around the table there came moans of delight and 'sounds delicious' and 'how heavenly'.

Dave continued. "Now normally I would serve a Pino Grigio with the main meal but since we are not allowed to bring alcohol into this fine establishment and a certain someone is on pain meds, we'll have to settle with sparkling cider." He gestured to Hotch who was uncorking the bottle.

After Hotch had filled everyone's glasses, Rossi stood back up and raised his. He turned to Emily. "Oggi di fronte a voi si apre la porta a una nuova vita. Per sempre insieme circondata da un'immensa felicità."

"And for those at the table who cannot speak word of Italian which pretty much includes everyone," he winked, earning a few chuckles. "Today in front of you opens the door to a new life. Forever together surrounded by an immense happiness. Cin! Cin!"

Emily stared at Dave overwhelmed by an array of intense emotions. She wanted to cry with happiness and felt the tears begin to blur her vision. The warmth of love that enveloped her brought to her face a smile that she had thought would never return. She choked out a thank you as she raised her glass of sparkling cider to connect with those she loved and missed dearly.

"Cin! Cin!" Everyone echoed and clinked their glasses together. The toast done everyone dug into his or her dinner.

Emily sat back in her chair, took a sip of her cider and looked around the table over the top of her glass. She smiled at Morgan and Garcia teasing Reid about getting him a bib after dripping butter sauce down the front of his shirt. Hotch and JJ were laughing at something Henry had done. When she glanced over at Rossi she found him watching her. He raised his glass and nodded and she did the same.

This is what she had been missing over the past five months: a sense of family and a sense of belonging. She was home.

* * *

><p>"Emily, are you sure about this? You've only been out of the hospital for two weeks," Hotch asked, glancing briefly from the road to the woman sitting in the passenger seat.<p>

"I'm positive, for the umpteenth time," she said with a hint of exasperation. "I've been looking forward to this."

He shook his head. "Promise you won't over do it?"

"I promise."

"You'll take plenty of breaks?"

"Yes, Hotch."

"If you get tired you'll let me take you home?"

"Yes, Hotch."

Hotch pulled into a parking space and shut off the engine. He hopped out and trotted around the front of the car. He had the passenger door open before Emily even had a chance to unbuckle the seat belt.

"Need a hand?" he asked, offering to help her out.

"No, Hotch," she said through gritted teeth. She grabbed her crutch and leveled herself out of the car. "I don't see why I still have to use this. I can walk pretty good without it," she groused.

"Because the physical therapist says so. You may get away with not using it while at Rossi's but here you have to. Therapist and Boss' order."

"Yes, Hotch."

"Do you have everything you need in your bag?"

"Yes, Hotch."

"You have your pain medication?"

"Yes, Hotch."

"Did you take them before I picked you up?"

"Yes, Hotch."

"Did you…?"

Emily had had enough. "I swear to god, Hotch, that if you don't stop acting like a mother hen I am going to beat you senseless with my crutch."

"Yeah, Daddy, stop acting like a mother hen," Jack piped in, hopping out of the back seat.

Hotch held up his hands in surrender. "Sorry. Just wanted to make sure you had all your bases covered."

Emily rolled her eyes. "You're acting as if I am about to trek up Mount Kilamanjaro. It's only the zoo."

"I know but…"

"I know what I am doing, Hotch. I know my limitations. The zoo does have benches that people can sit on when they get tired," she pointed out.

"And they have a tram you can ride so you don't have to walk the whole place," Jack chimed in.

"See?" Emily asked, gesturing to Jack. "Even Jack knows what we are doing. Jack is going to carry the backpack that has a bottle of water for him, my beer, my pain meds and the lunch Uncle Dave made for us. I have on me my phone, the passes, money and my glock."

Hotch's eyes bulged. "A beer? You brought a beer? You can't drink that. You're on pain meds and the zoo doesn't allow alcohol on the grounds."

Emily and Jack stared at him. "Seriously? You seriously thought I would bring a beer to the zoo? I still may be suffering from the effects of the concussions but I'm not that daft."

He threw his hands up in the air. "I give up. You're incorrigible."

Jack squinted up at Emily. "There's that word again. What does it mean, Em'ly?"

She winked at him. "It means that I am driving your father up a wall."

"Oh. Cool!"

"I going to leave you two to it then. By the way when you get to the red panda exhibit ask for Michele. I arranged with the zoo director for a behind the scenes tour."

Jack rushed over to his father and gave him a big hug. "Thanks, Daddy."

"That's nice, Hotch," Emily said.

"Now go and have fun. You have my number. Call me when you are done or tired. Remember, Emily, don't over do it."

Jack and Emily exchanged glances. "Yes, Daddy!" they said as one.

Hotch glared at them. With a shake of his head he headed back to the car.

"So, Jack, you ready?" Emily asked her young escort.

"Yup. Can we go right to red pandas?"

"Of course," Emily said. "I figured you would want to. But afterwards I want to see the tigers. Oh, wait. The hippos. No the elephants. No the zebras. No the cheetahs. No the hyenas. Oh, oh the sea otters."

Jack laughed. "Pick one Em'ly."

She laughed. "Okay, Sweetie. I'll pick the sea otters and depending on how I feel we can try to see the rest. Deal?"

"Deal."

Jack rested his hand on top of hers that was wrapped around the grip of the crutch and side-by-side they headed off into their new adventure.

* * *

><p><em>That's all folks! Hoped you enjoyed it. I certainly had fun writing it. Now do not fear I already have another in the works. I have it tentatively scheduled for posting of the first chapter of 'Perceptions' for mid August. Hope to see all of you readers then. <em>


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